


The Inevitable Fate

by ObliviateHate



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Harry Potter and the Cursed Child - Thorne & Rowling
Genre: LGBTQ Themes, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-08-17
Updated: 2018-11-25
Packaged: 2018-12-16 10:09:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 20
Words: 125,974
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11826549
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ObliviateHate/pseuds/ObliviateHate
Summary: After defeating Delphi, Albus and Scorpius are back in Hogwarts, right in the middle of their fifth year. Things are wholly different now, though. Scorpius and Rose are dating, holding hand-in-hand in the corridors and Albus cannot help but feel jealous of the two. But the question was: why was he jealous?Some things, however, stayed the same. The bullies. The prejudice. The uncertainty.  But that wasn't the worst of it. Albus thought he could forget about the horrors of what had happened last year with Delphi, but after a sinister lesson orchestrated by a familiar face, it seems that the past has a firm grip on both Albus and Scorpius. It is up to the two of them to defeat their qualms once and for all: before history repeats itself.





	1. Fears, Friends and Foes

Albus checked his watch worriedly, beads of sweat dripped down his darkened forehead, his wrinkles noticeably deepening. 12:00 A.M. He kept his sharp green eyes knitted determinately on the ceiling of the Slytherin Boys Dormitory, his arms folded underneath his head. He’ll be here in a minute; he kept telling himself as his exhausted eyes drifted shut, yearning deeply for rest. The silk moonlight from the window yawned angelically into the room; directly at Albus who pulled his shaggy eyebrows together with evident annoyance. He sighed loudly, and squirmed over to the side, trying his very best to regulate his breathing, trying to not think about his best friend and all the possible things he could be doing with her right now. Slumber was no easy task—especially without Scorpius. A thousand thoughts swarmed through his heavy head. This wasn’t the way it was supposed to be. This was not what he wanted. What was taking Scorpius so long? The burning question was: what was so great about Rose Granger-Weasley anyway? 

She was just a silly girl. She was never a particularly nice cousin, either. The second the Sorting Hat hollered out Slytherin, Rose had treated him like a pariah, just like the rest of the school had. Sure, during family gatherings, she would play the heroine but the moment everyone would leave them alone, both Albus and Rose dropped the charade and treated each other nothing more like a speck of dust; invisible, irrelevant and unworthy. He could not understand what Scorpius could possibly see in her as he was fully aware of Rose’s hostility and prejudice against the Slytherin House. There wasn’t anything remotely interesting about her; no offense. She was bossy, rude and smelled like chocolate all the time, although Scorpius passionately argued that she smelled like bread instead. But that wasn’t the point. The point was, she is hardly interesting. Hardly worth wasting precious time on. Scorpius and Albus could have been doing many things instead; studying for that big Potions final which was in two days, conjuring up vast plans and ideas to scare off their tormentors, practicing spell-casting and potion-making. Polyjuice Potion was Albus’s personal favourite. Nothing could beat Polyjuice. Such potions take months to make, which is why he and Scorpius tend to make at least five brews each month, always on the dead of each month. That was their tradition. Polyjuice Potions were extraordinarily helpful when it came to eavesdropping, spying and hiding from bullies. The best part of making Polyjuice, is having Scorpius right by his side. He loved teaching Scorpius about it and adored the way Scorpius’s grey eyes would light up whenever the colours of the potion would simmer together harmoniously and bubble into a striking colour of bright purple. 

Albus rolled out of his bed and began pacing around the room, checking the time once again for good measure. 12:08AM. Tick tock. Minutes were flying by. Valuable minutes. Valuable time. Scorpius was late—and he was never late. He was always prim, proper and punctual; obsessively and annoyingly so. Albus scratched his crisp coloured pajamas dimly; it was the one Grandma Molly made for him. They were etched with love and care, dressed in an engaging green and magnificent silver, Slytherin’s finest colours—and when Albus sent her an OWL, joking how fond Scorpius was of them, when in reality, Scorpius poked fun at them, she couldn’t help but send one for Scorpius. Scorpius laughed so hard at his own misfortune when he discovered that Albus had one made for him. They always made it a mission to make sure they never wore those silly pajamas on the same day for that would be utterly mortifying. Humiliation was always present in Hogwarts. Humiliation and torment were Scorpius and Albus’s only friends for they followed them everywhere they went. Sometimes, however, humiliation and torment were their worst enemies for they could feel themselves drowning by their menacing presence. He can feel them tug relentlessly at their throats, acting as their own personal noose. What was the time now? Ah, 12:13. He felt the agonizing company of the green eyed monster, strolling about in the chilly atmosphere. He didn’t understand, couldn’t understand where all this jealousy was coming from. He was not a jealous person. Okay, fine, the time his Dad bought Lily those dumb angel wings, and passed down his notorious invisibility cloak to James, he felt increasingly envious. But, could you blame him? He was left with that pathetically old blanket from his Father’s past; what good would that be? Now, however, he understood the significance of the blanket. He appreciated how much that blanket meant to his Father. But he didn’t at the time; at that time, it felt a normal kind of jealousy. But this…this wasn’t the same. That jealous feeling he felt with his siblings was entirely different to the jealousy he felt when Scorpius was with Rose. It felt different. With Scorpius, it wasn’t like that; it wasn’t an envious sibling rivalry, it was more of a searing resentful feeling. Whenever he saw Rose with Scorpius, he felt as if his head were about to explode, torturing him into madness. 

“Hello my good friend!” Scorpius greeted as he walked into the room with his tippy-toes, trying not to wake the other Slytherins. 

Speak of the devil. Scorpius was dressed in his slick Slytherin robes, looking dashing as ever. His hair was never gelled back like his father’s, but instead his sunlit blond hair was combed perfectly on each side, his elongated bangs dangling over his forehead like rope, nearly touching his unkempt eyebrows. His eyelashes, attractively so, were compellingly long. It reminded him of the reason why he loved watching Scorpius read so much for he would look as if he were sleeping, peaceful and still. Albus studied his friend’s face prudently, noting any changes in his friend’s behaviour with every chance he could find. Scorpius’s dreary eyes which were often sunken with grief, was painted with a blinding colour of unexpected contentment, a shade that Scorpius only worn when he was with Albus. 

Albus watched his friend coolly, studying the glossy lipstick of red glimmering on the tip of his moist lips. He suddenly felt wrath, anger and confusion, all rolled into one blaring, undefined, unspeakable emotion. He couldn’t quite place his thoughts into words, so instead, he forced a painful smile, hoping his solemn eyes wouldn’t betray him.

“Scorp!” Albus beamed, “it’s so good to see you. Where were you?” He asked even though he knew the answer. “Out with…erm, her again?” He didn’t know why, but saying her name brought great pain to him. 

Scorpius sat down on the bed, gesturing with his eyes for Albus to follow him, and reluctantly so, he did. Instead of sitting directly beside him, like he normally did, however, he stalked over to his own unmade bed, and sat in front of him. Scorpius was too engaged in his own thoughts to notice the barrier that Albus had quietly created between them, for he grinned as he took off his shiny raven winged coloured shoes and snowy socks, calmly putting them away. He folded his socks carefully, biting his bottom lip, obviously plunged in unmistakeable concentration as he placed them gently in his empty laundry basket. Scorpius was still dressed in his school uniform, and despite the uniform being all the same for every Slytherin, Scorpius seemed to stand out of the crowd. He looked far better, far braver and far more handsome than any of them combined. There was just something about Scorpius that made him different than the rest. Untouchable. Albus just couldn’t quite wrap around what that something was. 

“Rose is an excellent snogger, I must say. Did you notice?” Scorpius beamed.

Albus looked affronted, his nostrils flaring. He stuck his chin in the air and folded his arms across his chest defensively. “How would I know such thing?”

Scorpius shrugged playfully, a wayward smile twitching on the corner of his reedy mouth. “Well, you snogged your Aunt Hermione plenty of times, remember? You must have snogged your cousin, too, I suspect.”

Albus grabbed his pillow and hurled it towards Scorpius, smacking him right across the face. Scorpius laughed along with Albus, and did the same until both were breathless, panting with mirth. The room grew quiet as Albus stared wistfully into Scorpius’s grey eyes, who held his intense gaze for several seconds before breaking delicate eye contact. 

“I…erm…Rose said that she wants to go out again…with me…” Scorpius mumbled, he whispered, looking down timidly at his lap as he fumbled nervously with his fingers. “I think she wants to go to the Ball with me.”

Albus nodded slowly and pushed his jet black hair back with his fists, feeling his face heat up simply by the thought of them slow-dancing together. Her arms curtained closely around Scorpius’s neck. His soft hands touching her waist. The whole thing seemed so odd. So wrong. Quite out of place. He couldn’t possibly picture any of that, and yet, that was all he could picture. 

“Do you?” Albus asked, breathing hard. “Want to go with her?”

“Why, of course.” Scorpius leered coyly, slowly looking up at him. “Feisty, that one is.” 

“If that’s what you like, I can take you to meet Uncle Charlie’s Dragons. Uncle Ron’s brother has loads of them up in Romania. He’ll even let you pet them.” Albus piped up, his green eyes twinkling in a colour of anticipation mixed with hopefulness. 

Scorpius smiled pleasantly at his friend. “I think I might take you up on that offer. I have always been fascinated with Dragons. The Ukrainian Ironbelly in particular is my favourite. I find it the most intriguing. It’s the largest dragon species ever recorded and their scales are said to be as hard as steel! Can you believe that? I think it’ll be best to bring a steel with me when I go there so I can put that theory into test—”

“Scorpius!” Albus cried out, “for the love of Dumbledore, shut up!” He took his second pillow and threw it toward Scorpius, who was quick this time, and dodged it. Scorpius watched the pillow Albus had thrown at him, fall to the floor, his grey eyes were unreadable. He seemed to be caught in some sort of trance, clearly deep in thought. Scorpius clipped his finger in his mouth, chewing on his nails absentmindedly, seemingly unaware of what he was doing.

Suddenly, Albus straightened his posture, his emerald eyes narrowing. “Scorp! Scorp? What’s wrong? Talk to me.” He rose from his bed and sat next to his friend, his hands rested comfortably by Scorpius’ knees.

“I need to go to the library.” Scorpius said at once.

“What?” Albus sighed, throwing his arms in the air with most exasperation. “For what?”

“If you’re going to take me to see the Ukrainian Ironbelly, it’s best to brush up on my knowledge on these mesmerizing creatures. I wouldn’t want to go there unprepared, now would I? This is…exciting.” Scorpius broke into a smile and hurriedly slipped his feet into Albus’s murky slippers, unaware of the mistake, but didn’t mind nevertheless, quickly disappearing into the darkness.

“You’re the strangest, most ridiculous wizard I ever met.” Albus called out after him, collapsing lazily on his bed as he rumpled up his dusky hair, making it even more monstrous than it was before. “You know that, right?”

Scorpius stuck his head out of the door, grinning. “Don’t I know it, my friend.”

***  
“Oh look who it is, Polly Chapman simpered, nudging her looming group of friends, who turned in an instant, wearing the same cold stare printed on their leering faces as hers. Her brunette hair was bound in three thick braids, spilling onto her hips. There was a sinister smile slithered on her impish face as she watched Albus stroll into the Defense Against the Dark Arts Classroom with Scorpius in tow, who was trudging passively with four heaving textbooks which kept swaying back and forth in his tiny arms, not paying any attention to her, too engrossed in his read to even look up. She stuck her chin out as she spoke, her tone unmistakably deplorable. “It’s Slytherin Squib and Voldemort’s Son.”

At that remark, Scorpius immediately lifted his gaze off of the book, turning towards the crooning group of Gryffindors but spun away almost instantly the next second, flushed with embarrassment. He continued looking down at his book, pretending he could not hear a word, when in reality, each word they had said sliced through his soul like knives. The rest of the students only listened and laughed in agreement, joining in on the unsettling anguish. It was as if they were watching him bleed out until he was face to face with the angel of death, and yet, wouldn’t do a single thing to help him. They would only cheer over his limp body, marking his grave with an incorrect surname, burying him next to his rumoured father, Tom Riddle.

“I don’t even know why they let them near us,” Polly continued on, loudly, “He’s obviously the son of Voldemort. He’s probably looking for Death Eaters to recruit.”  
Albus glared at Polly with deepest loathing, he curled his hands into fists, his nails biting savagely into his flesh. He was useless with spells. It would probably be best to fight her the Muggle way. One punch should do it. One blow to the face. But Scorpius, who could read Albus’s mind like no one else, touched Albus’s hands gingerly, smiling sadly. 

“Don’t let her see your anger,” his voice was barely a whisper, “that’s exactly what bullies want—to see your anger, to see that they got to you.”

“Well,” Albus muttered his breathing unsteady and enraged as he rolled up his silver Slytherin styled sleeves, “she did. I can take her.” He whispered. “Just let me.” 

“Albus.” Scorpius said softly shaking his head desperately, his eyes watering. “Please. No. Dad always told me to ignore them. I—I don’t want to cause any trouble.”

Quickly, Albus pulled out his wand from his robes, aiming directly at Polly, who was now turned to her boyfriend, Karl Jenkins. “They’re the ones causing trouble. I’ll disarm her. Just give me a second to think.”

“Oh!” Polly shrieked, pointing at Albus viciously, her arm clutched onto Karl’s hand with fake terror, “the Squib is going to attempt to holler out a spell. Let’s see what rubbish he can conjure!”

Albus felt his hand quiver; trepidation and regret settled in the pit of his sinking stomach. His head was spinning; he felt his knees wobble together and lock like bricks. He couldn’t move. Say something, he told himself. Anything. What’s Dad’s signature spell? Oh right; Expelliarmus! But, he knew, just like everyone else, that he wasn’t anything like his Dad. He was the disappointing son. The son his Dad wished he never had. The spare. He couldn’t do it. He couldn’t do the spell. He won’t do it. It would be a miracle if he could, but there was no use. What if he does it and it doesn’t work? Or what if he does it and it does work but they’re faster? Or even worse, what if he does it and it turns out, the wand is facing the wrong way? He couldn’t possibly take that chance. Scorpius, as usual, was right. With great defeat, and a pang of hostility, he lowered his wand; his head hung low, too tired to pretend that he was okay. That they didn’t get to him. That he was a loser and always will be as long as he lived. Maybe that was the problem. That he was alive. Perhaps everything would be easier if he never woke up? Scorpius hastily put his books into his bag and stood beside Albus, his hand holding onto his sleeve, glaring at each one of them with definite animosity intertwined with panic. 

“Slytherin Squib! Slytherin Squib!” Polly chanted cruelly, her laugh as cold as ice. “Hey Albus, why don’t you do everyone a favour and use Avada Kedavra on yourself? Or Scorpius could do it for you since his Father is an expert on that spell. I reckon he’s familiar with all of the Unforgivable Curses.”

“THAT’S ENOUGH!” Professor Longbottom shrilled, banging his fist hard on the wooden table, his face puffed with such furiousness. “I SAID ENOUGH!” 

Immediately, everyone turned, Albus and Scorpius included. There was relief in both of their gazes. Scorpius still was holding onto Albus, determined not to let go. His fingers were now threaded with Albus, and Albus, who was unsure what to do, for they never held hands, only sleeves, or even arms, but never, never, hands, could only stare mildly ahead, although his heart was pounding eccentrically out of his chest. He was utterly bewildered at this unique situation, so finally, he glowered blankly at their interlocked hands, unsure if he could untangle him off of him. A part of him wanted to, but another part didn’t. Scorpius was holding tightly onto him as if he were afraid that when he would let go, Albus would vanish into thin air and disappear forever. 

Neville cleared his throat uncomfortably. He hated yelling, and made it a mission that he would never shout unless it was absolutely necessary; but he had no choice. This proved to be an important scenario. They had to stop. He knew all too well what it was like being demeaned in public, with a set of excited onlookers in the background, cheering the aggressors on. He would not let anyone go through what he went through as long as he lived. 

Neville was cloaked in a towering green gown, etched with massive splotches of soil and gunk probably created by the sobbing mandrakes in the Herbology greenhouse. His hair was curly, dashed with a hint of gray which was birthed by stinging stress and tedious time. His face was bearded and his moustache was magnificently and most charmingly groomed. 

He licked his lips carefully, scanning the perplexed faces that stared up at him. He shook his head, clicking his tongue with utter disapproval, staring at the Gryffindors angrily. “Polly. Karl. The lot of you.” He pointed. “Detention and I want three parchments on why mistreatment like that is strictly forbidden in my classroom and in all the grounds of Hogwarts.”

Polly sighed dramatically, shaking her head, cranking her pointed head up at the cerulean marbled ceiling. “I didn’t do anything!” She stomped her foot childishly, her blue eyes seething with wrath. “We were having a laugh is all, weren’t we?” She desperately turned to Albus and Scorpius, quietly hissing threats and curses under her breath, but Neville knew better than to listen to her lies. 

“You don’t get to decide who gets punished and who walks away free.” Neville said sharply. “Detention. 3 parchments. By my desk. Tomorrow morning. No later.” He tapped his chin thoughtfully and added for good measure, “and 50 points from Gryffindor. Hogwarts has no place for such—”

“But—”

“This is not up for discussion.” He turned to the class apologetically. “This is not how I wanted to start off the class, believe me. I am as stunned as you are. I hoped by now Hogwarts would be more inclusive and far less daunting. The rest of you should have known better. Bystanders are equally deadly as oppressors. Now, I am going to be your teacher for the rest of the semester. It’s only a couple of weeks, so don’t fret.” He smiled welcomingly at everyone. “Now, don’t be shy. I don’t yell often. Come on. Up to the front. All the way.” He encouraged. “There you go. Excellent. Today we are going to be doing one of my lessons—my favourite one to teach and participate in.” 

The entire class was facing an odd, cherry coloured grandfather clock. The hands kept swaying back in forth in a haunting pattern. There was a tiny picture of a skull with a snake coming out of its opened mouth, clearly, this was the work of a former Death Eater as this was the symbol of the Dark Mark. Now why would Neville Longbottom have an artifact such as that? 

“Sir?” Elm Rosebait murmured, pointing at the strange clock in the front. She was a Hufflepuff student with curly black hair that stretched onto her cheeks and huge chestnut eyes which always seemed both alert and frightened. She raised her trembling finger. “What’s this?” 

Neville stalked over to the front of the classroom, his back turned to his class as he spoke, gently caressing the antique clock, mesmerized by its memory and the secrets they had once sealed. 

“Now who here has ever heard of a Boggart?”


	2. Boggarts and Bullies

Scorpius raised his pallid hand high in the air instantaneously as if he were certain that the tips of his ashen fingers could reach the mottled roof. He released Albus from his grasp, a valiant smile glistening on his alluring face; there was absolutely no time to be hesitant or second guess himself or even care what people thought of him. He knew the answer to the question.

Scorpius straightened his posture with a shy smile the second Neville had pointed at him, his voice came out rapid, as if he were afraid that time was not on his side, that class would soon be over before he got a word in. “It is said that Boggarts are a dark splotch of nothingness. They are shape-shifters and transform into what a person fears most. The best way to get rid of it is with laughter. Once you laugh and pronounce the Boggart-Banishing spell, Riddikulus, correctly, the Boggart should successfully vanquish.” He explained breathlessly, grinning proudly, evidently pleased with himself. 

He knew about Boggarts like the back of his hand. He studied all about them even before he attended Hogwarts. He remembered quizzing his Dad about them during winter break and having him quiz him. His Dad even had bought him his own trunk to put the Boggart in so he could practice. As a child, he was too scared to open the trunk and see what his deepest fear was. He was too scared to face his own fear. Cranking open the trunk was the first and most difficult task that he had dreaded terribly so. That was always the tricky part. But when he was eleven, on summer break, after his first year of Hogwarts, he tried again, and his Boggart turned into something revolting. Something horrid, something foul, disgustingly warped, something that made him burst into tears and run desperately into his father’s arms, clinging onto him like glue, begging him to rescue him for the horror that he had witnessed. Something that even scared his own Father, who was forced to vanquish the Boggart while still holding onto his hysterical son. After that day, Scorpius was determined to never let that happen again. He told himself that he had to face his fear and to get rid of the Boggart himself. To not run for someone to help. To help yourself. To be prepared for anything. That was four years ago. He had practiced loads of time…his Boggart won’t be so scary anymore. He’ll be okay. 

Neville smiled proudly, his moustache twitching, nodding kindly at Scorpius. “Excellent. 10 Points to Slytherin.” He looked around the room inquisitively, “Does anyone know another way to get rid of Boggarts?”

“OH!” Scorpius cried, shooting his hand excitedly back in the air, nearly toppling Albus over with great enthusiasm, not waiting for Neville’s approval as he continued. “You’re stronger in numbers! It’s best to face Boggarts with two or more people; that way you confound the Boggarts as they will keep having trouble trying to morph into your fear. When there are more of you, the Boggart becomes confused and doesn’t know which fear to turn into!” 

Albus leaned close to his ear. “Why don’t you just teach the class for us?” He whispered. 

Scorpius only smiled, his eyes knitted firmly on the crooked grandfather clock. This is it. This will be his moment. Once he gets the green light, he’ll march over to that grandfather clock and face his Boggart. He knew that the Boggart was hiding in that clock since Boggarts tend to live in the darkest of places, and enclosed and tight spaces. 

“Well done. 10 more points to Slytherin,” Neville grinned. “Now practice the incarnation, Riddikulus! Put your wand away, please. Listen here! Riddikulus! Riddikulus! Riddikulus! Remember, tune out your greatest fear. Don’t give your fear the power to break you. Channel your energy not on what’s scaring you but what isn’t. You all have it within you. You just have to believe in yourself and focus on how to make the Boggart look comical. Funny, even. Now…who would like to go first?”

“This is third year stuff.” Polly rolled her eyes in dismay, drawing out her wand. “I’ll go.” She flicked her braids away from her face and nodded at Neville.

“Very well.” Neville moved his arm to left to right, curling his fingers, silently mumbling a spell as he stirred his body towards the grandfather clock.  
Swoosh.

It cranked open, and out emerged a gigantic dark Boggart, cloaked in nothingness, hovering over Polly, who hesitated for a moment, before trailing over to the Boggart with a stern look engraved on her unflinching face. She kept her wand on the Boggart, eyeing it with definite animosity. The Boggart hiccoughed and shivered, quickly morphing into Polly Chapman herself! There were several curious murmurs across the room, their astounded voices scorching like fire in the back of Polly’s mind. 

Polly cranked her head to the side in mystification staring at her Boggart with disbelief, her blue eyes widening. The Boggart, Polly, sneered at her; she was swathed in all black; her zipped, heeled boots were as starless as the midnight sky, her long murky dress snared with burnished chains, her school robes just the same as the real Polly, except it was no longer emblazoned with the Gryffindor Crescent. She was house-less. Homeless.

Polly wheeled away from the Boggart Polly, who pursed her lips, smiling eerily at her, stretching out her scrawny arm to grab her, but Polly took a huge step back, trying not to wince. She had no time to be afraid, for everyone was watching her. One wrong move and her reputation would be history. She pointed her hornbeam wand at the Boggart, her eyes unreadable. 

“Riddikulus!” She yelled and instantly, the replica of Polly screamed, toppled backwards, and transformed into a small white rabbit, tiny enough to fit into her opened palm. The bunny jerked its pink button nose with marvel as its floppy ears bowed down just when it stuck out its tiny tongue and licked the floor, slowly hopping around the classroom, sniffing about. 

The class erupted into laughter, clapping stridently as they pointed to the rabbit with smiles pasted on their animated faces. Everyone except for Polly, who walked over to the back of the class quickly, hoping no one would notice her leave the classroom. Grabbing her schoolbag and slinging it over her bony shoulder, she took one look at the bunny and stormed out. 

“Great,” Neville exclaimed, pointing his thumb onto the once scary Boggart, clearly not noticing her early departure. Her grinned at the giggling class, who all seemed to be having a great time. He watched Albus and Scorpius who were holding their bellies, laughing the hardest until they were practically in tears. The lesson is going quite well. Neville thought to himself, feeling a rush of exhilaration, knowing Remus Lupin would be quite proud of him right now. “Now, who’s next?”

A familiar hand hoisted into the air with unmistakeable confidence and insecurity all rolled into one. “I am.” Scorpius volunteered, regaining his stance. “I’m ready.”

Scorpius walked up to the classroom and positioned his heavy books and bag to the corner of the room. He fished out his wand from his robes too excitedly though he dropped it to the floor with clumsiness. The rest of the class giggled, but Scorpius ignored them and picked up his wand, aiming at the bunny.

“Try me.” He muttered through his gritted teeth, his wand was not shaking as it usually was, Albus noticed, but extraordinarily unabashed. 

Suddenly, the rabbit was no more. Twisting and gurgling, it was brutishly heaved into the air, morphing into arresting colours and inexpressible shapes until finally, it was thrown onto the ground, and there lay panting was Astoria Malfoy. 

No. It couldn’t be her. Not Mom. Anything but that. Mom wasn’t Scorpius’s Boggart when he was eleven. He didn’t understand. How could—how was this happening? What did it mean? Scorpius couldn’t catch his breath. He didn’t see his Mom for years. Not since she lay dying on her deathbed while Scorpius had helplessly watched, tiresomely cried, and uselessly prayed. 

Scorpius straightened his posture, blinking a few times, hoping this was some bizarre twisted dream. The class, he realized, was deathly quiet. No one uttered a word. It felt like it was just him and his Mom; just the way it should be.

He walked over to her, putting his wand away. He reached out his hand, determined to touch her, to finally hold her again, but Astoria hissed at him and quickly, Scorpius recoiled, jumping away with absolute fright.

“Mom?”

But that was the thing: this wasn’t Mom. She kept coughing for she was sick and she was angry. She looked the exactly same on the day she died. Her eyes were bloodshot with heavy bags weighing her beautiful face down, marking her with an inexorable cruel fate which she did not deserve. She was dressed in her white nightgown adorned with cyclamens and was still wearing the “World’s Greatest Mom” bracelet on her left wrist that Scorpius had made for her when she got sick.  
“You should have saved me!” Astoria whispered, her voice, broken. She crawled over to her son, gingerly embracing his dismayed, pained face. Scorpius closed her eyes at her gentle touch, holding her hand desperately, wishing that his Dad was here as well. They would be a family finally reunited. “You…killed me, Scorpius. You just watched me die. It’s your fault. YOU DID THIS TO ME!” Her voice grew darker, crueler. 

Scorpius shook his head, removing her hands off of him, his face was carved with hurt bewilderment. He could not believe that these words were coming from his mother. “N-n-no, no. I didn’t…I didn’t…I—”

But she refused to let him finish. “I can’t believe I was stuck with a pathetic son like you. You couldn’t even save your own mother!”

Suddenly, Astoria threw up blood, panting weakly as she held her own long brunette hair as she puked, hyperventilating as she crawled away from the mess she made, sobbing loudly, covering her face with shame.

“MOM!” Scorpius screamed, falling to his knees. Quickly, the moment, his legs hit the floor, he felt Albus’s protective arms draped around him, his own personal armour. But not even Albus would be enough. Not this time. “MOM!” Scorpius yelled, his scream, bloodcurdling and painful, was crying hysterically, trying to reach her; to cup her into his arms, to clean up the vomit of red, to help her in any way he possibly could. To be the best son he could be…to set things right again. “Mommy!” He begged. “Please…I…I…” He struggled, but couldn’t find the words. He didn’t know what he could say. Nothing he said could ever be enough. This pain was all too much. It was real and it was painful and it consumed every inch of his soul. 

Albus unravelled himself away from Scorpius, drawing out his own wand, and directed it at Astoria and within seconds; she disappeared, and turned a dark shadow skidding across the room, morphing in thought. 

Albus shook his head furiously at his friend’s ordeal. He collapsed by his side, pushing him into a hug. This Boggart was merciless. This was too much for Scorpius to handle. He didn’t recall his Dad ever talking about the Boggarts with such revulsion. He recalled him talking about them normally; there wasn’t anything especially excruciating about them. 

Scorpius rose from his feet, shaking his head. “I-I…I’m sorry!” He wept, running out of the classroom, hiding his face, leaving his books behind. Some of the students watched in horrible silence while other laughed. Albus turned, ready to go after him. 

“What a freak.” Yann Fredericks laughed cruelly.

Albus whipped his head back at Yann, who snickered as he continued juggling his wand in his strapping fingers, leering to himself as he noticed two twinned Ravenclaw girls stare at him with absolute awe and admiration, giggling bashfully. It was obvious that Yann was used to being in the centre of attention and thrived on it dearly. 

Yann was nearly as tall as his brother, James, both avid players of Quidditch. He had dark red corkscrew hair that was pulled into a rushed yet spotless ponytail with a few twines of hair dangling by his face like vines. He turned back to Albus, his black eyes gleaming with immense enthusiasm at Albus’s petulance. 

Albus grinded his teeth, his face contorted. “WHAT DID YOU JUST SAY?” He shrieked, drawing out his wand. He would do it, this time. He would mutter a spell and it would work. He wanted Yann to suffer. “Really, tell me again. What did you call Scorpius?”

“That’s enough!” Professor Longbottom interrupted. “Albus, you’re up.”

Yann rolled his eyes, looking bored, still chucking his wand in the air, smirking at the astonished gasps of his devotees and onlookers. “Ready to embarrass yourself a second time, squib?” He asked, narrowing his eyes at Albus, finally putting his wand away, and sticking it in his pocket. He watched Neville’s angry face from the corner of the room, who shook his head at him in warning, but Yann carried on, glaring at Albus. “I must say, I am surprised that he is a PureBlood. Scorpius is weak and what’s worse is he’s afraid of his gross Mom. Did you see her puke?" He turned to Karl, both smiling widely, enjoying tormenting Albus. He wrinkled his nose. "Disgusting. He’s nothing but a pathetic, useless—”

Albus charged over to Yann, sticking his wand at his throat. “Take it back.” He yelled through gritted teeth, his eyes wild, pushing his wand further into Yann’s flesh. “Take it back right now.” 

“BOYS!” Professor Longbottom screamed. “Enough!” 

Yann pulled his wand from his robes aiming it at Albus, who ducked the sparks of light, hitting the parchments of paper on Neville’s desk, which burst into flames. 

“Aguamenti!” Neville said desperately, as a jet of blue waterfall sprayed from the tip of his wand, relieving the dancing flames of his marked papers. He turned to Albus and Yann with frustration. “Boys—”

“Stupefy!” Albus shouted and Yann was thrown backwards into the classroom, knocking down a basin of acid pops with a great thump.

Albus turned his heels to go, ready to leave, to find Scorpius, but Neville shook his head unhappily at him. 

Albus lingered his green eyes towards Professor Neville almond shaped irises, feeling awfully guilty that he caused so much destruction during his class. He didn't mean it. He just couldn't stand hearing someone say nasty things about Scorpius. Someone had to do something. He wanted to rip Yann apart, limb by limb and it wouldn't take much to do it. 

The way Neville watched Albus made him feel awfully remorseful; he felt a knot tie in his stomach. He knew Neville was disappointed in him, and could Albus really blame him? They used to be quite close growing up and now, things have changed significantly, and Albus knew, he was responsible. 

Neville was the person his Dad always invited to family gatherings and holidays. When Albus was a child, he made it a mission to creep downstairs with his thumb jammed in his drooling mouth, giggling while holding onto his older brother, who helped him down the stairs, knowing Albus was craving his favourite sweets: buttered gram crackers. Albus would catch a glimpse of Neville who would be chatting and laughing delightfully with the rest of the giggling, drunken adults. Whenever Neville would see Albus, he would smile knowingly and put his hand over his friendly eyes, signaling that he would not tell, for he did not see a thing, allowing him to steal another handful of crackers. That would always be a secret, a fun tradition. As the years rolled by, Albus’s taste in desserts changed from buttered gram crackers, to butter tarts, to chocolate frogs and pumpkin pie. Nevertheless, it was a fun tradition that both Neville and Albus enjoyed and furtively looked forward to during each gathering.

However, once Albus went to Hogwarts, Neville would never see him sneak downstairs for a snack. More to that, whenever Neville came by, Albus merely acknowledged his existence. He would scuffle a disinterested hello and be pushed by his parents, to offer him a warm hug, although Albus’s hugs were cold as ice. After a scornful encounter with Neville, Albus, long-faced and sallow, would make his way up the stairs, not coming down to eat, or to make small-chat or even to whisk away any more baked goods. He would stay in his room, Neville guessed, sulking in a sea of despair. 

Now years later, here they are, staring at each other like strangers. Neville did not want to punish Harry’s kid, for he was the same young boy, trudging up and down the stairs with his snacks, grinning at Neville’s playful nature, but at the same time, he did not want to give him special treatment. He had to be fair.

“50 Points from Slytherin.” He sighed, wrinkling his groomed moustache. 

“Whatever.” Albus mumbled, glaring at Yann, who at that moment rose to his feet, dangerously furious as he cracked his knuckles, a malicious smile growing in the corner of his mouth. 

“You’re dead.” Yann mouthed at Albus, who muttered a curse word at him, trusting Neville could not hear.

“Albus!” Neville called out sharply. “It’s your turn.” His eyes locked onto the floating Boggart which skid across the room unnervingly, a faceless ghost of darkness. It hovered closer to Albus, its filthy body tormented with the unsung tribulation of others. “Show us what your deepest fear is.”


	3. The Unwanted Guest

How about I punch you in the face? Albus wanted to reply. Was this really the time? He didn’t care about facing his Boggart. All he cared about was Scorpius who was paralyzed in terror, crying all alone in the dangerous halls of Hogwarts. 

Albus turned his head to the Boggart, which hummed into a sing song voice, a chilling tune that was all too familiar. 

She had deathly pale skin and attractively short silver hair spotted with blue tips at the very ends, which stretched down to her rubicund cheeks, her smile as terrifying as her eagle shaped eyes and electric blue pupils. She was dressed in a pink blouse with grey lace at the front, illuminating just a hint of her collar, along with briny blue pants, her nails painted a bright lavender colour.

“Albus Severus,” Delphi breathed, her voice like ice water, “You don’t really fear me, do you?” 

Albus raised his wand at her, detecting no horror at all, for all he felt was rage. Rage at what had happened to Scorpius and his Mom, ire that his Boggart turned into Voldemort’s doleful daughter who killed without mercy, wrath that, after a year of not thinking about her, she suddenly showed up in the shape of a Boggart.

“You’re not real.” Albus remembered, his teeth clenched as badly as his fists. “Are you?”

“I’m real to you.” Delphi’s red lips pursed into a smile she drummed her fingers by her abdomen, humming quietly. “And you know it.”

“I’m not scared of you, Delphi.” Albus said, shaking his head. “I think this Boggart is confused about me nearly just as much as I am. It just proves that some people just aren’t afraid.” He shrugged, raising his wand. “Riddi—”

“Scorpius,” Delphi suddenly interrupted as she rolled her head up and down, cracking a few bones as she did such an obscure pattern, “That’s what your fear is. When you see me, all you can see, all you can picture, is me torturing him. That is your greatest fear…that I will torture him again. Your fear is that memory of me hurting him...that while I used Crucio on him—oh what fun was that, you just stood there and watched, just as powerless and pathetic as your father.”

“At least I have a father!” Albus shot back.

“I do, too.”

“But mine wants me.” Albus smiled, “Yours…yours wants nothing to do with you. He left you in that orphanage to die—your Mum, too.” He elevated his wand again, his eyebrows travelling further and further up his crinkled forehead at Delphi’s exasperated expression at his insult, sneering, knowing that he got to her. She looked like she was thinking of words to say, words that would somehow shatter him, but she couldn’t think of any in time. “Stay away from Scorpius.” Albus warned, glaring at her with purest hatred. He was fuming, singed with so much unhappiness and resentment that he would have no problem, at this very moment, committing murder. “Riddikulus!”

Delphi melted onto the floor, changing into a wind-up toy of monkey, slamming its golden cymbals together with a crashing sound. The class, excluding Albus, laughed with delight. Albus couldn’t laugh for all he could think of was Delphi torturing Scorpius. 

Albus gathered his belongings, stuffing Scorpius’s intimidating pile of textbooks carelessly in his bag, slinging his heavy backpack on his broad shoulders, determined to find his friend after such a disastrous event. He bolted out the door and made his way through the ashen hallways and hallow corridors. Then, he heard an agonizing choking sob. It was unmistakably Scorpius. Without hesitation, he stalked over to him, ready to hug him with opened arms when he heard another voice—a girl’s voice.

“Don’t cry, Scorpius.” Rose said gently, her tawny amber hair was pulled back to the side in one braid, knotted with an azure ribbon. Her nails were painted a captivating golden colour, clearly Gryffindor pride, which glistened noticeably in the dark shadows of the corridor just as her fingers eased into his light blonde hair for comfort. Scorpius was lying in her arms, his solemn head rested on her lap as she continued to stroke the threads of his muddled hair with evident care. His sobs came out exasperated, as if breathing was suddenly a difficult task that he knew nothing about. “It wasn’t real, Scorpius. It wasn’t real. Shhhh. It’s okay. It’s alright. I’m here. I am right here. ” 

Albus felt himself green with envy. During moments of distress, Scorpius would turn to him for comfort—not Rose. Rose was the last person Scorpius would cry in front of. At least, that’s what he thought-that Scorpius only allowed himself to be vulnerable around people he trusted, people he cared about most. But clearly, that rule has been breached. Clearly, he had been replaced. With a great sigh of defeat, Albus turned the other way and marched over to the Slytherin Dormitory, bitterly lost and hopelessly confused in his own conflicting thoughts. 

***  
Say it, fool.

I won’t. I won’t do it.

You know you want to. What’s the use, pretending to be good? Pretending that you don’t want to crawl back into that hole, into the dark side. You know the spell. You’ve heard it in your worst nightmares, hinged in your cloudiest reality. 

Kill him.

No.

KILL HIM!

NO!

Then I will. Avada Ked—

NO! I will.

Albus straightened his posture, looking around the unfamiliar atmosphere carefully, refusing to meet eye contact with the chilling hooded figure that stood in front of him. The prison was filled with rats the size of bowling balls and reeked of filth mixed with burning betrayal. Inside the jail felt ominous for it was perilously cold, nearly enough to rip his fingers out. That could only mean that the Dementors were nearby. It was a disgusting, frayed cell that Albus and the Hooded Figure were stuck in. He watched Scorpius scuffle wildly, bounded by invisible ropes, that were sharp enough to leave a devastating imprint. Scorpius squirmed away from Albus, as if he were afraid of him. Afraid of what Albus could do, afraid of what he was seemingly capable of. 

Albus lowered his wand with great disbelief, feeling his heart sink at Scorpius’s surprising shudder. “I’m not going to hurt you, Scorp. Come on. Look-look at me.”

Albus, wake up.

But Scorpius refused to, and quickly turned away from him, shutting his eyes, inaudibly crying; his lips were viciously taped shut. 

Albus.

Unsettled ribbons of uncontrollable fury filled Albus’s aching lungs. Suddenly, he couldn’t see his best friend when he looked at Scorpius. All he could see, all he could taste in the beads of Scorpius’s silent stare, was a stinging stranger. Someone who didn’t matter. A spare. He raised his wand by Scorpius’s heart; there was no hesitation, no mercy, no hint of remorse. 

Avada Kedavra! 

NOOOOOOO!

Quickly, Albus awoke, jolted with indescribable terror. He blinked several times, feeling utterly feverish, his heavy head cranking up at Scorpius, who supposingly came out of nowhere, glued by his side, nearly tripping over his own feet, throwing an arm around him. Albus quickly wiped away his tears and drew away from his penetrating gaze. 

“Stay away from me.” He grumbled irascibly, taking his closed palms and hurriedly rubbing his eyelashes which was prickled with fresh tears, hoping this too would go unnoticed. “Just don’t, okay?”

“Albus, what is it?” Scorpius whispered, his grey eyes shrinking, the light nearly lost, replaced by unmistakable misery. He pulled Albus into a long hug, his slinky arms wrapped passionately around his neck, clasped by his shaking fingers. He was so close that Albus could feel his rise and fall of his breath, a quiet lullaby. “Talk to me, Albus. Please.”

“No,” Albus disencumbered himself off of him, wheeling away from Scorpius, whose face looked as though he had been kicked in the chest. But he didn’t understand. He wasn’t pushing Scorpius away because he didn’t like him. He needed him. More than anything. But, what he wanted, more than anything was to keep Scorpius safe and in the nightmare, it looked like Scorpius was in severe peril. “I’m dangerous. And you…you’re precious. You’re the most important person in the world. I don’t want you to get hurt. Scorp, I…I love—”

Rose stepped out from behind the Slytherin sofa. Her face was draped with concern. She searched for his eyes, but he wouldn’t meet his gaze. “Albus, what’s wrong?”  
Albus’s eyes darkened at the sight of her, whose hands, he realized, were awfully close to Scorpius’s. 

Rose ignored her cousin’s animosity and carried on, panic drawn on her face. “Was it a nightmare? You know what you’re Dad said about having nightmares…they’re dangerous. If it was really bad, you’ve got to tell him!” She stomped her foot for exaggeration. 

“What is she doing here?” Albus snapped, rumpling his disarrayed hair. His eyes were sharp, crossed with fuming anger he had no energy to hide. 

“I will not be talked to in that tone, Albus.” Rose replied, her voice as equally cold. She placed both of her hands on her hip, her chestnut eyes narrowing as she frowned at her cousin with unsaid rancour, her cheeks puffed into the same redness as her frizzled hair.

“C-can’t you guys just get along?” Scorpius whispered uncomfortably, looking from Albus, to Rose, trying desperately to meet eye contact with Albus, “Please?”

But Albus, who had no intention of looking at Scorpius, stared merely ahead at his cousin, trying to come up with something hurtful to say. All he could picture was Scorpius lying in her lap and what’s worse is he let her. What a pair, they made! It wasn’t fair. It wasn’t right. It wasn’t the way it was supposed to be. “Gryffindors aren’t allowed here.” He said hotly, folding his arms across his rising chest. “Get out, Rose. Leave me alone.”

Rose sighed loudly, craning her head towards Scorpius apologetically before walking towards her cousin until they were nose to nose. She stared at Albus as if she were trying to read his eyes, to study what secrets his irises were concealing from her and the rest of the world.

“Albus,” Rose took a slow, vigilant breath, hoping there was some way to word what she was about to say with such delicacy that wouldn’t set him off. His temper, she found, was stemmed from no doubt, his father. Both were irrational and hot-heated, unbelievably so. Her voice dripped out with caution and apprehension. “Can’t we give it a rest already? Can’t we start over? I’d like us to be friends again. Like before.”

“Before,” Albus scoffed, her words tasted like blood. He ran his long fingers through his hirsute midnight black hair. “Why? Just because you’re dating my friend—my best friend—you want to suddenly patch things up? Pretend you weren’t a complete arse? What did you think would happen? We would hug? Be a trio like our parents were?” He began pacing back and forth, clearly, unable to contain his bottled up bile. “It’d be great fun too, watching you snog Scorpius—my Scorpius, all day. This wasn’t the way it was supposed to be. I’m with Scorpius. I am his and he is mine. We don’t need some girl coming in and ruining what we have!” 

Rose turned to look at Scorpius, who turned bright pink at Albus’s words, quickly whipping open his copy of The Standard Book of Spells, Grade 5, by Miranda Goshawk, pretending to be so fascinated by the contents of the page, when reality, he could not bear look at her in that moment and he certainly could not meet Albus’s eyes. 

“Oh wow…” Scorpius gasped, keeping his finger on the page, eyebrows raised. “Look at this spell: Levicorpus! It says here: ‘The spell, which was intended to be cast nonverbally but which can be spoken aloud, causes the victim to be hoisted into the air by their ankle; the counter-jinx for this spell is Liberacorpus.’ Hmm I do think I have heard of this jinx, yes I do.” Scorpius continued, his eyes running through the pages, his face flustering pathetically. “Y-yes…S-Severus Snape invented this during his schooldays at Hogwarts.” He looked up from the book for a moment, his face hot, smeared with discomfiture, “You were named after him, weren’t you, Albus? And what a great man, Snape was.” 

“Slick.” Rose hissed beneath her breath, rolling her eyes, still facing her cousin, who stood in silence, fists scrunched. 

Albus observed Rose’s icy expression soften to his dislike and quickly carried on, spraying her with startling words, wondering why she has not exploded yet. “How amusing would it be having a crummy friend like you around, always poking her nose in our business—our lives! Always tagging along even though she isn’t wanted. Well guess what, Rose? I’m not interested! You’re too late. Years late.”

Rose touched his shoulder gently with a small nod, a silent understanding. She had tuned out everything her cousin was saying and focused on the meaning behind such rage written words. She thought she knew what was going on, why he was so upset at her. “Albus,” she said quietly, her eyebrows wrinkling in marvel, her auburn eyes glowing with empathy. “Listen to me…”

Albus glared at her with all the hate he could foster and pushed pass her, ignoring Scorpius’s desperate pleas as he darted out the door, full of determination and misery all at once. 

He made his way up the moving staircases breathlessly as if the devil was right at his toes. This feeling was unexplainable and the pain was enough to kill him; for a moment he hoped it would. What floor was he on now? The sixth? Seventh? He had absolutely no idea where he was going—he just had to go anywhere were Rose was not. He needed to be alone. He hated being alone yet he desired it. 

It was moments like these when he truly questioned life. What purpose did life hold for him? Was he destined for something great like his father? Was he supposed to have an ultimate showdown between a dark sorcerer, blurring the lines between good and evil? Or, when it came down to it, was he destined for nothing nearly as exciting, as adventurous as his father? Perhaps Polly was right about him. He was worthless, disposable and a waste of space. 

I need to get out of here. I need to get out of here. Somewhere safe. Some place good. A safe place. A good place. Please. Please.

The grey tiles webbed across the antique walls quavered at once, roaring stridently across the deserted hallway. Albus looked up at the historic thatches which miraculously transformed into a black metal door. He shook his head incredulously, his mouth half-open. It couldn’t be what he thought it was…could it? He took a chivalrous step forward and entered the dusky room, and for the first time, in a long time, he felt safe. 

The cavity was bursting with advantageous artifacts. Albus rubbed his tired eyes and examined the extensive chamber with bewilderment. Lying across one of the many hammocks that were bounded all over the room like dominos, was an invisibility cloak. Perfect! There were enchanting tables of food, scrumptiously prepared and a loo at the corner of the room, just in case. It was as if the chamber had read his mind which only meant one thing: Albus discovered the Room of Requirement.


	4. The Terrifying Truth

His eyes bulged in excitement when he peered at the very middle of the chamber. There were two dozen wands fixed with different shapes, sizes and coloured hairs, all lined up like dominos, swivelled to the shape of an S. Did that stand for Slytherin? At the very corner of the room, just beside the streaks of wands, was a dummy of Polly Chapman! Albus could not help but smirk, glowing with pride. It was as if the room knew that Albus wanted to brush up on his defense against the dark arts skills and that he wouldn’t mind at all to use Polly as bait. Without hesitation, he picked up one of the many wands that were lying on the floor. He grasped the unicorn haired wand and furrowed his frazzled eyebrows at the dummy, ignoring his heavy breathing. 

His wand trembled violently with self-loathing and self-doubt, but at that moment, he didn’t mind the least. Who cares if he wasn’t as confident as his father? Who cares if he could not conjure a spell? No one was here. No one was watching. No one could laugh. He didn’t want to utter the spell aloud, so he said it in his mind. 

“S-Stupefy!” But as predicted, nothing occurred. 

“Useless!” He muttered through gnashed teeth as he launched the wand meters away from him and kicked the nearby hammock. Why did he even try?

“Oi!” James Sirius called from his hammock as he keenly gulped down the remaining bits of his pumpkin pie. “What was that for?” He stuck his head out and moved his twilight kissed hair away from his coffee coloured eyes as a toying smirk birthed from the corner of his jerking mouth. “About time you discovered this room, mate!”

Albus casted his older brother a sour look as if he had just tasted a vomit flavour of Bertie Bott's Every Flavour Beans. It was almost as if his brother was a dementor that eagerly sucked the happiness right out of Albus’s soul. 

James Sirius irritably was everything his father was. Whenever Albus looked at his brother, all he could see was someone he would never, in a million decades, measure up to. It wasn’t bad enough that he was the Disappointing Son. He was the Disappointing Brother as well. The Disappointing Potter. He was rubbish at spells while James excelled in them. He’d rather stand in the bleachers of the Quidditch field, his head down in an intriguing paperback, while James was a Quidditch God who thrived in the spotlight. Albus was reserved and at times derisive, while James had a presence that demanded to be heard. They were complete opposites. How could James possibly help Albus? That was certainly out of the question. For once, he thought he did something right by finding a room he figured no one knew about, but no; James, as usual, was one step ahead of him.

Albus let out a swear word and began trudging away from his brother with unmistakeable conquest, his fists curled into bowling balls of frenzy.

“Oi! Oi!” James jumped out of the hammock and stood in front of his brother, eyebrows raised like how their mother looked when she was disappointed. He wore the same look his mom had worn last week when she found out that Albus had been skipping classes to hang out with Scorpius. “Where do you think you’re going, mate?”

“Getting far away from you as possible!” Albus spat nastily. He looked at the dummy of Polly, appearing nauseous at such a sight, and with all his nerve, picked her up and threw her across the room, his breathing unevenly enraged. He ran his gaunt fingers through his hair, puffing hard. “I just needed…I just wanted a moment alone. I needed to be alone!”

A wayward smile made its way onto James’s long face he studied the dummy’s limp body which was weltered in the many hammocks, its chubby arms caught in the shiny strings that bounded the beds into the charcoal spitted ceilings. He had to give his brother credit. He had no idea that Albus was robust enough to chuck a replica of one of his tormentors across the room. That could only mean he seriously was upset and nothing cheered Albus up more than food. Well, that, books, and his best mate, Scorpius. 

James eyed the table of food with knowing anticipation. “How about we eat first? Then you can run away and play hide and seek with your boy—” But James quickly stopped himself and smiled. 

Luckily, Albus was too busy pouting to catch what James almost let loose. He unwillingly followed his brother behind him and together, they sat side by side on their hammocks, munching on Cornish Pasties. 

“Now,” James said sternly, “how about you tell me what’s troubling you?”

“Stop acting like you care.” Albus grumbled miserably, placing the divine baked goods down on a plate and staring forlornly ahead. 

Everything in his life was going madly wrong. But this room seemed alright. It was a nice quiet place to think. Scorpius would love this room. He’d love it nearly as much as Albus did. Their dormitory was tiny as a Bowtruckle compared to this chamber. In this room, they could do anything. Say anything. Be anything they want to be. They could practice defensive spells, brew as many potions as they pleased, talked as loud as they wanted. It would be a room just for them. A place where they finally belonged. 

Albus turned to his brother, his emerald eyes drowning in melancholy. “You…you don’t know what it’s like and how could you? You’re popular. Liked. A Gryffindor. A Keeper. You’re outstanding at casting spells, as much as I hate admitting it. You love Hogwarts. I hate it. I hate it, James. Hogwarts isn't actually that pleasant a place when you don't fit in. You don’t know what it’s like to be me. You have no idea! You don’t know what it’s like to walk by yourself in the corridors, with your wand clasped in your shaking hands, waiting for someone to come attack you. You don’t know what it’s like to be mocked for who you are. And I am thankful for that. I wouldn’t want you to be me. I wouldn’t want you to suffer. And don’t pretend you do understand, because I know you don’t.” Albus thought of Scorpius with his cousin and cleared his aching throat, uncomfortably carrying on. “You don’t know what it is like to watch someone you love—I mean, like, be with someone else.” He said inaudibly, his voice cracking. “You don’t know what it’s like to have night—” But Albus cut himself off, shaking his head. 

As much as Albus hated admitting this, he wanted to talk to James about his nightmare. The nightmare was a warning of some sort. It didn’t make any sense and what’s worse is Albus killed Scorpius in the dream! Scorpius, his best friend. His other half. What did that mean? What did it mean to kill your best friend in your dreams? He remembered his Dad telling them that he used to have disturbing dreams about Voldemort. His Dad had always reminded them, had always warned them that if they ever had any bad dreams connecting to Delphi or Voldemort—anything dark and sinister, they had to contact him immediately. But Albus didn’t want to tell his Dad. He didn’t want to worry him. He already caused his family enough grief over the time-turner incident and associating himself with Delphi—Voldemort’s lunatic killing daughter. His mind was a roaring rollercoaster, a broken mess. 

He didn’t want Scorpius to get hurt. But he shouldn’t even worry about that, now that he has a stupid girlfriend. It didn’t make sense, though. Why on earth was he hanging around Rose? Seeing Scorpius with Rose troubled him more than his nightmare did. He couldn’t stand it. Why? Why couldn’t he stand it? Why was he jealous? Who was he jealous of? He knew it. He couldn’t keep pretending anymore. He knew the answer but couldn’t say it aloud.

He kept picturing it. Scorpius. Scorpius Hyperion Malfoy. His striking, friendly face. His doting, yet fervent eyes. His laugh that became a compelling tune hinged in Albus’s most beautiful dreams. The way Scorpius held Albus’s hand in Defense Against the Dark Arts. How the feel of his hand ribboned with his made his heart skip a beat. How sometimes, when Scorpius got a little too close, Albus could not breathe. It was obvious why Albus got like this around Scorpius. Sure, he could keep denying it, but what good would that do? The truth was terrifying but needed to be said aloud. 

I like…I like Scorpius. I love him. I love him and I hate Rose. I just want to be with him. I want to hold him. Touch him. Feel the passion of his warm lips with mine. Feel the thrill of his fingers brushing by my hair. I just want to…but I can’t. It’s not right. Not allowed. 

James instantly put his food down, curtaining a brawny arm around his brother, the outline of his muscle sticking out of his long black sleeves, enveloping him into an awkward but much needed embrace, caressing his shaking shoulders. “Hey,” he said in a hushed tone, “don’t cry.” Albus didn’t even realize he was weeping until James announced it. He tried twisting away from James, but James, who was far stronger, pushed Albus closer towards him, gingerly rubbing his back. James kept looking around the room just to make sure no one could see him act all mushy and caring towards his brother. His reputation would be tarnished if anyone knew. “Whatever it is,” said James, “you can tell me.” 

Albus rested his forehead on his wiry knuckles, doing his absolute best to control his rickety breathing. “I’m…I’m different.” Albus choked out, dabbing his nose with the tissue that James had summoned, pink-eyed and lachrymose. He kept his eyelids snapped shut. He couldn’t bare to look at James. He knew if he did, he wouldn’t be able to speak. He wouldn’t be able to concentrate. Say it, idiot. Say it. Albus took a reticent breath, still keeping his eyes closed. “I…I like someone I am not supposed to like.” He blurted out rapidly. He could feel his body growing vehemently incommodious, a ruthless flame of restlessness. 

James heaved Albus closer to him, until Albus was quiescent by his shoulder. There was a slight pause. “I know.” He said taciturnly. 

Albus looked up at once, his face practically as white as Nearly Headness Nick, rushing away from him in disbelief. He staggered to his feet, backing away from James and scanned the room shrewdly, wondering if he should make a run for it or not. But where would be go to? The Slytherin Dormitory, where Scorpius would be anxiously awaiting his presence, expecting an explanation for his foul behaviour his hostility towards Rose? No thank you. But how…how did his brother know? Nothing made sense. 

“You know?”

James was torn between making a joke and making Albus feel relaxed. He decided, with abundant loss, to do the latter. Comfort is what his brother needed. Acceptance. Someone to talk to. He massaged the curls of his brown hair and loosened his Gryffindor tie—he hated that stupid thing. 

“Al, relax.” James slowly walked towards Albus and offered him a goofy smile, placing his beefy hands on Albus’s sharpened shoulders, gaping him dead in the eye. “You are supposed to like him. There’s nothing wrong with you. I mean yeah you’re a slythering Slytherin, have a barking awful temper and are academically codswallop. But yeah, you’re still alright to me.”

“Do you…hate me?” Albus’s voice was small and petrified. 

“No.” James shook his head sternly, looking him straight in the eye. “I don’t hate you, Al, and I don’t look at you any differently. Nothing has changed between us and nothing ever well. I don’t care if you’re gay, Al, I don’t. And Mom and Dad and Lily? I reckon they just want you to be happy and if Scorpius makes you happy, then we’re all on board. Plus, it’ll be mad fun to watch Dad and Draco try to get along.” 

Albus could not help but beam with relief. All these years he spent hating himself, wishing he could change, secretly researching about potions that could “straighten you out”, and for what? James knew and it turns out, his family would have the same reaction. He was gay. Albus Severus Potter was gay and he was inevitably and deeply in love with Scorpius Hyperion Malfoy. No potion could change that. No spell could reverse that. His feelings for Scorpius was not something he could talk himself out of. Not anymore.

Just then, one of James’ sentences finally clicked. “Wait—Scorpius? You mentioned Scorpius? How’d you know?”

“Come on, mate.” James sneered. “I’m not an oblivious wonky First Year, now am I?” 

Albus tried to smile, but he was absolutely terrified despite James’ best efforts. All the cards needed to be put on the table. “How long have you known?” Albus whispered, his voice sounding abnormally high-pitched. He was so nervous, so scared, he could barely speak. 

“Forever.” James admitted with a genuine grin, his eyes lighting up with serenity. “For starters, the way you two look at each other gives it away. And the pair of you blush at each other’s smiles. Have you noticed? Also, you two cannot keep your hands off each other. You always have to touch each other. You know, either, you hold hands, arms, or sleeves. Don’t get me wrong, mate, it’s great—just, you know, get a room.” 

Albus scoffed, folding his arms across his chest defiantly. “I could say the same thing about you and your girlfriend.”

“Maybe now we could go on double dates.” James cheered brightly, his chin stamped with an attractive dimple as his smile expanded. 

“We can’t.” Albus said flatly. “Scorpius…he’s…he’s dating Rose.” 

James rolled his eyes, flicking his arm out at him. “I’ll talk to her, no problem.”

“No!” Albus panicked. “No! Not her. Not a word to anyone, understood? Life is already hard as it is. I don’t need another excuse to get beat up.”

“Al—”

“Swear to me!” Albus begged, sticking his arm out. “Make the Unbreakable Vow.”

“You’re barking.” James snorted, waiting for Albus to laugh, but Albus’s whose face was waxen as ever, did nothing but stare expectantly at him, waiting for him to cave in. 

“Come on, Al.” James tried to beam. “You know I can’t do that.” 

“Why?” Albus snapped, his rage boiling, withdrawing his arm. “Because you’re going to tell?” 

“No, you blithering idiot! Because…” He scratched the back of his head, trying to formulate an excuse that would please him. “Because…well—blimey, what if it accidentally slips out one day?”

“Coward.” Albus retorted.

“You want to play that card?” James’s fetching face impetuously grew furious. “Do you seriously want to call me, James Sirius Potter, a coward?” He pushed his Albus back aggressively, who nearly slipped and fell. Albus eyed his brother with inmost abhorrence, his teeth clamped shut. But James carried on, unblinking. “Look at yourself in the mirror—now that’s a coward.” 

“Thanks.” Albus said sourly. 

“Anytime, mate!” James hollered. Albus didn’t think he saw his brother this angry since Albus told him that their Dad said he wished Albus was never their son. “You know why you’re a coward? Because you’re hiding.” James’ voice softened and it was then when Albus understood that James wasn’t angry at Albus all. He was angry that Albus was suffering. Angry that James could never help Albus get out of that hole of self-loathing and pity. That he could only watch while his brother was in indescribable pain. James moved his hands for exaggeration as he spoke. “Only a coward hides, and come on, Al, you aren’t one. Come out. You’re hiding and it’s killing you. I see how it’s killing you. Don’t think I don’t. We all see it. You’re angry. You’re mad. You run away when you’re scared. You think you’re running away from your problems, but you’re really running away from yourself. It’s been years, mate. You can’t keep going on like this. It must be a battle, pretending to be someone you’re not. So take off the mask. Be with him. You and Scorpius…you were meant to be. I know you’re scared. You can’t be with the person you love because you don’t want to get persecuted. Guess what? You won’t. You know why? Because you have me and I won’t let anyone hurt you so just—”

“That’s a load of rubbish!” Albus shouted, drawing away from him and kicking away the wizened wands with wrath until they were all rolled over to different corners of the bewitched room, some ripped, others fragmented violently in halves, all battered and neglected horribly so. Albus stomped on the Unicorn Hair wand until he heard a crack, until he was absolutely sure it was really broken. He shoved away all of the enchanted food from the golden table, swiping them off the table, devilishly watching everything splat carelessly onto the concrete; there was exhilaration splattered in his grotesquely green eyes. All the oatmeal, pumpkin pies, pastries, cauldron cakes, chocolate frogs, treacle tarts, bottles of butterbeer, shots of firewhiskey, turned into nothing but disgusting mush. He wanted to tear apart everything he saw. He saw two goblets illuminating in the darkened chamber and cupped them in his trembling hands, tossing them as far as he was able to, feeling a deep satisfaction at the sound of their shatter. “Do you know how many times I get hurt?” He knocked over the caramel imprinted benches, wheezing heavily, his body sodden in sweat as he was toppled them forward with a loud grunt. “How many times Scorp and I get shoved in the hallways, laughed in our faces and bullied by Gryffindors!” His senseless eyes clicked onto a basin filled with colourful cutleries, jade spoons, rubicund forks, buttery knives and sapphire chopsticks and without a warning, hurled them behind them, not caring to look back, to see where they landed, to see what damage they sustained. What mattered is that they were injured, and irreversibly abused. He seized a sharp knife from off the floor and began stabbing the Polly-look alike mercilessly, wishing it were her flesh instead, imagining dark blood ooze from the abdomen. His face was wild, full of unhappiness and agony, but ultimately, affliction, all at once. “You don’t know what it’s like. How badly, how horrifying it was to be tortured by Delphi! And you weren’t even there. You’re never there. Not once!” He panted, throwing away the knife, collapsing to his feet, his knees pushed by his chest, his hands shaking. “If I come out…my life will get ten times worse.”

James’ eyes moved around the wrecked room. There was crushed glass, the charred pieces decorating the floor with disaster. Trays and plates of perfectly good food stuck to the ground. Demolished benches. It was hell. Truth be told, he wasn’t startled by Albus’s reckless behaviour. This wasn’t the first time he trashed a room, and James knew, this wouldn’t be his last. Every week before Hogwarts, it would be a twisted tradition of Albus to demolish his own room. He’d set his curtains on fire, throw his trunk all over the room, empty out his drawers, pitch his clothes all over the room like confetti and bawl for an hour, begging his parents to not make him go to school. Correction: that was hell. 

James went on all fours and quickly sat in front of his brother, taking Albus’s hand, and folding it with his. “It’ll also get ten times better.” James murmured thoughtfully. He watched Albus’s distorted, angry face crumple into wretchedness. He nodded eloquently at him, his jaw tightening. “You know I’m right.” He grinned, hoping his brother would return his beam, but he only looked as though he would burst into tears at any given moment. “Al…” James said, unsure of how to comfort his brother. He wanted to help him to relieve him of his worries, but it looked like he was doing a lousy job. 

“No,” Albus whispered. “Don’t you see? Ever since I came to Hogwarts, I have been facing everything all alone. And if I come out, I…I will have to fight it all by myself again.” 

“That’s the thing. You won’t be alone,” James tried to explain, grasping his hand harder. “You know…you’re right.” He smiled apologetically, his eyes full of culpability and contempt. “About me not knowing what it’s like. How I wasn’t able to protect you as much as I liked to. I get caught up with my own life—with Quidditch and my own friends that I forget you’re there. Because you suffer quietly at Hogwarts. You don’t come to me and why would you when I don’t give you the time of day? I am sorry, Al. It’s not right and I am not proud of myself, mate. You’re right and I am sorry about that. I will do better, Al. I promise. I am sorry that I was unable to help you. But that’s all going to change, I swear. Mate, I am sorry I don’t know your pain. But do you know someone who does know what it’s like? Who has been facing the very same battle as you have? Who does his very best to defend you, whatever the cost? Scorpius. Find him, Al. Tell him how you feel. You both can do this together. You both can come out together. Do it, Al. Just tell him. I know he feels the same way about you.” 

Albus sighed deeply, gazing at his brother hopefully. “Just say I do it. He’s with Rose.” 

James gleamed, his eyes wondering over to Albus’s rich emerald eyes. They were no longer angry or aggrieved, but hopeful and benevolent. “He’ll leave her in a heartbeat if it meant being with you.”


	5. Confessions and Catastrophes

Albus stared into the bathroom mirror, studying his own reflection meekly, his eloquent green eyes flourishing with anticipation. This was it. This was the moment he was going to tell Scorpius everything. He balled the lime towel in his hands, wiping down his dripping hair quickly, shaking his head back and forth, looking very much like an overgrown sheepdog who had been caught in the rain.

Albus realized too late, that he idiotically was dressed in his pajamas. The stupid ones. The ones that Molly knitted. How mortifying would it be to confess his feelings while wearing that silly thing? He was so foolish. He should have worn his fine Slytherin robes. Or better yet, a nice suit. The suit he intended to wear at the Christmas Ball. Anything but those ruddy old things. He should have brewed himself a vial of Felix Felicis before speaking to Scorpius. That would have done the trick. Nevertheless, he gathered all the courage he was able to obtain after a tiresome night, nodding to himself. He had to tell Scorpius. This was it. The time was now. 

He pushed the bathroom door open, and stalked over to Scorpius’s bed, expecting him to be fast asleep, but to his surprise, Scorpius was sitting up, hugging his knees, with tears streaming down his shivering face. His entire body was trembling. 

At that moment, breathing was nearly impossible. “Scorp.” Albus whispered, rushing to his side, sitting beside him. Without even thinking, Albus clasped his hands with his, stringing his fingers with Scorpius’s, and Scorpius held on as if his life depended on it, determined to grasp on, staring at him, his somber salted eyes filled with dolor. 

“Don’t leave me.” He croaked weakly.

Albus pulled their knitted hands by his heart, a vow of promise, hoping Scorpius could not hear the thump of his heart birthed simply by the feel of Scorpius’s hands on him. His emerald eyes met Scorpius’s gray eyes, stroking his fingers, silently praying that that would be enough to calm him down. 

“Never.” He said. 

“Do you know what it’s like, to have your own Mum as your Boggart?” Scorpius asked, there was a sense of accusation in his voice.

“No, of course not.” Albus responded, keeping his eyes sheltered onto Scorpius’s, worried that if he were to inadvertently break eye contact that their friendship would perish along with it. 

“It wasn’t fun, seeing my Mum today. All those things she said about me…that wasn’t right. It wasn’t her. I think whatever she said were just my doubts…my thoughts…and the Boggart used that against me. It used my Mum as a weapon to destroy me.”

“It didn’t destroy you, Scorp. You’re still here.” Albus squeezed Scorpius’s hand, still nested neatly by his heaving chest. “You’re brave. Anyone would have been scared. Even Polly was scared of her Boggart and her Boggart was herself!”

“I’m not scared of my Mum. Her Boggart form self, erm, well, yes. But not her real self. She was an excellent Mum. Always caring for me. Always making my Dad smile, which is hard to do, believe me. She was lovely. She would have liked to meet you. She talked about you nearly as much as I did. She was the World’s Greatest Mom and she knew it. I even made her a report card, once. All Outstandings.” He smiled proudly, still sobbing, however, quite soundly now. “But I was afraid of her during her last days. So the Boggart wasn’t exactly lying. I was scared of her… only because I thought she would leave me. Frightened because time wasn’t on our side. Every night before I went to bed, after I kissed her goodnight, I was scared that that would be my last kiss. And one night, it was. But…before she went…before she died…s-s-she told me…s-s-she...she—she told me to never let go of you. To keep you close. So I must ask: why are you letting go of me?” 

Albus felt his heart slam with guilt and pain. He held onto Scorpius’s hand tighter, wishing that would be enough. “Scorp…listen. I…I just—you need to understand…I…I’m—” But Albus willed himself to stop. This wasn’t the time to confess his feelings. Scorpius was in agony, grieving over his Mom. He had to give him some more time. Or maybe Scorpius was ready to hear him. Maybe this is what he needed. But Albus stayed silent, biting his lip nervously, swallowing his Adam’s apple. 

“I didn’t like my life much without you in it.” Scorpius carried on. “When your Dad forced us not to be friends, because he was convinced that I was the dark cloud, looming over you…that killed me.” Scorpius said, ignoring the constant fall of his tears. “It was torture. I cannot even count how many nights I spent crying over you. We both were suffering and now it’s déjà vu. It’s like you’ve wedged a mighty wall between us and I am not strong enough to break it down. I can feel us falling apart again. I feel you growing distant with me. Is it your Dad? Has he said something again? Is he having doubts about our friendship once more?”

“It’s not my Dad—”

“THEN WHAT?” Scorpius shouted. “WHAT IS IT? You can’t stand being in the same room as me. You’re cold. Heartless even, and you have the biggest heart in the world. W-w-why do you h-h-hate me?” Scorpius released Albus from him and noisily wiped his nose with his pajama sleeves, hyperventilating. “W-what did I d-d-do, Albus? Tell me and I’ll fix it. Is it R-Rose? I’ll…I’ll l-leave her.” 

“I don’t hate you. I. could never hate you. You’ve got to believe me.” Albus said gently, trying his very best to hold him steady, but Scorpius shook his head, recoiling.  
It took a few minutes, but Scorpius was finally able to hold himself together, nodding at Albus, signalling that he was able to speak again. “Tell me. Is it her?” Scorpius snapped his eyes shut and two large tears spilled from his eyelashes. “Is that what this is about?”

“Do you like Rose?” Albus countered, feeling the sweltering, suffocating jealousy yet again find a home in Albus’s anguish. “Just tell me that and I will give you an answer. I will be honest with you, I swear. I just need to know. Do you fancy her? Really fancy her?”

“I…erm…”Scorpius took a deep breath, holding Albus’s intense gaze before breaking away, tearing his hands off of him. “Yes.” 

Albus wanted to smile, to disguise his pain with a laugh, but instead, he felt his eyes water. He was absolutely heartbroken but he knew better than to show Scorpius who he truly was. His uttermost feelings. So it wasn’t reciprocal. The feelings Albus held for Scorpius was one-sided—something he so deeply feared.

Albus sprung off the bed, hitching his hands in pockets of his petrifyingly disconcerting pajamas. “Great.” Albus found himself saying. “G-good. Fine. Whatever. I don’t—whatever.” He barked, crawling into his bed whilst attempting to flatten his pillow to just the right shape. Albus wired his fists and punched the pillow until he couldn’t feel his knuckles anymore, pretending he didn’t notice Scorpius’s conflicted, saddened expression. Albus turned the other way, pulling the covers over his head. 

“Albus, are you alright? Are you upset?” Scorpius questioned. 

“No. I’m fine.” He growled bitterly, adding an extra edge to his voice, hoping Scorpius was not able to tell that Albus was in fact, heartbroken. 

***  
Mistress, I, I—

Don’t call me that! What a filthy name. I will not be referred to as such!

I’m sorry…erm…M-Ma’am? 

Delphi. My name is Delphi.

Delphi, right. What would you like done with these prisoners?

Bound the sniveling fool up. As for Potter’s son…leave him with me so we can—OH STOP IT! Get that blubbering idiot to stop crying. 

Delphi, whose face was covered by a red vial drew away from the whimpering boy and faced Albus instead, smiling mischievously, her smirk nearly identical as her late mother’s, Bellatrix Lestrange, both equally demonic. 

Now, Potter. Listen to me very carefully. Do as I say or there shall be severe consequences indeed. 

ALBUS DON’T LISTEN TO HER! DON’T DO IT!

Shut him up, for goodness sake. Shut him up NOW!

No—leave him be!

Shut that filthy fool up now, I say!

Albus? Albus, wake up. 

The hooded figure grabbed Scorpius up, pulling on the dirty curls of his sun-drenched hair, making him whimper.

NO! STOP IT! YOU’RE HURTING HIM!

CRUCIO!

DON’T! TAKE ME! TAKE ME INSTEAD!

Scorpius’s screams echoed in the mucky cell, he writhed on the floor, screaming, pleading for them to stop—to spare him. But the hooded man laughed nastily, enjoying the sound of his pain. Delphi raised her wand at Albus’s temple in warning, her smile was so large that the dimples on her both cheeks raised, thoroughly amused, clearly enjoying this.

Make another blubber, and you will watch me do the same to your friend, here.

DON’T LISTEN TO HER!

Okay. Scorpius panted. I’m s-sorry…I won’t—

CRUCIO!

NOOOOOOOO!

“ALBUS SNAP OUT OF IT!” Scorpius screamed. 

Immediately, Albus’s eyes flew open, breathless and sweltering, rubbing his grave eyes. He looked around the room, blinded by the blur of tears, and felt a sea of security at the sight of Scorpius, who was sitting on his bed restlessly. Albus sat up with a tiresome groan, his entire back was drenched in dampness. He reached out and touched Scorpius’s hands, feeling comforted simply by his touch. 

“You’re safe!” He sighed, pushing his soggy hair away from his eyes. “Thank Dumbledore.” He said, trying his very best to remain collected. 

Scorpius latched onto him as he spoke, trying to get a good look at him, but in the looming darkness, it proved to be difficult. Scorpius pulled out his wand. “Lumos!” He said, aiming his wand by Albus’s solemn face, who, despite his worries, appeared mildly impressed by his friend’s spellcasting. “It was a nightmare, wasn’t it?” Scorpius asked timidly. “You kept screaming. What did Delphi do?” 

Albus’s mouth fell open. “How’d you—?”

Scorpius hid a smile. “You forget that I know you. Now what is it? Whatever it is, we have to tell your Dad Look, I know you hate admitting it as much as I do, but let’s face it, your Dad knows best.” Scorpius backtracked at once, fiddling with his hands. “Okay, okay, scratch that. He rarely knows best. Thought you’d be better off without me. Yes but in this rare, rather seldom case, he is the almighty Chosen One.” He raised wiggled his fingers in the air for dramatic effect and then quickly clamped onto Albus once more. “He’ll help you.”

Albus shook his head. “No.” He said flatly. “The nightmares, they’re probably rubbish, I mean, I haven’t thought about Delphi all year until now. Have you?”

Scorpius took a deep breath, feeling his insides close at the thought of her. “Some nights, yes, I do see her.”

“What? When? What do you see?” Albus demanded. He pulled his eyebrows together with abundant concern, holding Scorpius’s passionate gape. “Tell me, Scorp. Maybe our dreams are connected. Perhaps they mean something.”

“They’re just…j-just…” Scorpius shook his head, refusing to continue.

“Scorp.” Albus murmured softly. “I am right here. I am safe. You are safe. We both are and we can talk about this. We both have been through the same thing, really. Whatever it is, I know no one can understand you more than I can.”

“Fine.” Scorpius sighed. “What has been replaying all the time is Delphi killing Craig. I see it all the time. His scream. The flash of light. His limp body. It wasn’t right. He did nothing. He was just in the wrong place in the wrong time.”

“It’s not your fault.” Albus said weakly, patting his shoulder. Albus had no idea Scorpius was suffering in guilt as well. Watching Craig die is something that not even time could possibly erase. 

Scorpius straightened his posture, forging a smile. “I know.” He lied, biting his lip to keep him from laughing awkwardly at his own misfortune. “I’m fine, though, quite fine, very fine, fine as ever, fine.” He rambled on pitifully, his eyes pinned to his crossed legs, observing the red hem from Albus’s quilt unravelling where the snake’s large bloodshot eyes were supposed to be. The poor snake’s eyes were empty and blind. “It’s really okay. Dad has been helping me a lot last year with the night terrors. Brewed me a potion. Got quite addictive after a while. Long story short, I am fine as ever now.” 

“Scorp!” Albus cried. “How come you’ve never told me any of this?”

“Because,” Scorpius murmured, “we both have been dealing with Delphi our own way. I have to drink a brew to calm my nightmares and you…you…” He closed his eyes. 

“I what, Scorp?”

“You lash out. Push people away. Push me away.” 

“Scorp…It’s—I don’t do that because of—”

“It’s okay.” Scorpius tried to smile. “You won’t do that anymore, right?”

“N-no, no, I won’t.” 

“Good.” Scorpius said, quickly changing the subject to avoid more afflictive questions. “So your nightmares…are they like mine, of the past? Or are they new? Fresh?” Scorpius crinkled his button nose, appearing rather serious. “If they are new, then that is a sign that we need to tell your Dad straightaway. Oh come on, Albus. Don’t give me those puppy eyes. It is quite hard to say no to them!” He looked away from his friend and kept his eyes hooked onto the deteriorating coverlet. “Someone has to know. Someone other than us. How else are we going to get help? These nightmares, they could either be a sign or a warning. You said yourself your Dad used to be plagued with nightmares. He’ll know what you’re going through and he’ll help you.” 

Albus played with his hair distractedly. He couldn’t bear to crawl to his Dad for help. Whatever this is, he wanted to face it on his own. When his Dad was his age, he practically did everything on his own—except of course, with the help of his best friends, Ron and Hermione. Whatever it was, Albus would go through it alone. Or with the help of Scorpius if he was up for it. 

“Erm…I don’t think you should worry about my nightmares. I mean, it’s nothing, I hope. It’s the Boggart, really. The Boggart reminded me of her.”

Scorpius’s eyes widened, inching closer to him, gently putting his wand on bed, interwoven with Albus’s crocheted quilt, a humming light dripping out from the wand, shining between the pallid faces of both boys, who stared at each other intensely. 

“She’s your Boggart?” 

“I’m not scared of her.” Albus said swiftly, sounding far too defensive, his ears reddening with sheer embarrassment. “She’s a crazy lunatic with a noseless father. She’s hardly scary.” He tried to laugh, but he only frowned miserably. 

“Albus,” Scorpius said lightly, trying very hard to not be thrown into a painful flashback, detesting the thought of her enraged, wicked face, “she is.” He tapped his chin dimly, recalling his own Boggart and flinched in an instant. “D-d-did she speak, too?”

“Well, yeah,” Albus admitted sheepishly. “She talked about you. She said that I am not scared of her herself but the memory of her…torturing you.” He watched Scorpius’s face grow white as a sheet, his eyes locked with his. Albus carried on, slower this time, wanting to give Scorpius enough time to process it all. “And now—now I have been having nightmares of her torturing you over and over again. But it’s different now. It’s not from the past. It’s…erm...” Albus squeezed his eyes shut, trying to properly recall the contents of his nightmare. “Right, so we’re in a cell from a prison of some sort. It’s cold and deserted and disgusting. Hey Scorp? Can you name all of the prisons from the Wizarding World?” 

A shy smile stretched on Scorpius’s animated face. “Ooh a quiz! Wow. Squeak. My geekness is a-quivering!” He piped up dreamily, rushing over to his bed, and pulling out his colossal pile of books from wooden drawer and toppling them onto Albus’s bed breathlessly. He jumped by Albus’s side, grinning. “I can locate the possible cells for you and we can figure it out from there. Now, I need you to give me good descriptions of what the cell looked like. Are you positive it was a jail cell?”  
Albus nodded. “What else could it be?”

“No idea.” Scorpius shrugged. “Hmm, okay so here it says there is the Abandoned Nuclear Power Plant. ‘It is a maximum security prison utilized to imprison Death Eaters during the Wizarding War.’ Oh my, it looks quite overcrowded. I wouldn’t want to be stuck in here.” He flipped the page, leaning close to the book. Hmm, what else? Why, of course! Azkaban! ‘Azkaban is a fortress on an island in the middle of the North Sea. It serves the magical community of Great Britain as a prison for convicted criminals. Azkaban was built in the 15th century and it has been in use as a detention facility since 1718. Using certain Charms, Azkaban is hidden from the Muggle world, and is Unplottable.’” Scorpius looked up with a shaky, nervous laugh. “Now that sounds comforting, don’t you think? ‘Unplottable!’ Delphi must be in Azkaban, Albus! She must—” Scorpius bowed his hand back down on the book, his eyes crossed with panic. “Oh dear those pictures will give me horrific nightmares indeed. Now why is that person hanging upside down? And who, may I ask, is that man in the skull mask with two tongues? Look at all that blood. Oh no, did that woman’s eye fall off? That must have hurt. Is that even possible? Yikes! Now in this picture, the bloke with the two tongues is eating her eye. Oh my…”

CRUCIO!

Scorpius’s scream was deafening. 

No stop it! Have mercy. Please. Please!

“Albus!” Scorpius called, his smile faltered at Albus’s vacant expression. Closing his book at once, Scorpius crept closer to him until they were staring at each other at the same eye level. “Where’d you wonder off to, my friend?” He asked, raising his hands in the air and touching his face his warm hands, both blushing deeply at that moment. Scorpius quickly pulled back his hands at once, and began playing with them distractedly. “D-did you go back to the nightmares? What did you see?”  
“I can’t stand it, Scorp.” Albus said dimly. “I can’t stand her laying a finger on you. I can’t take it. I can’t. You’re too important.” He spluttered, turning scarlet, his face knotted with heavy emotion. “I don’t want you to get hurt. Maybe it’s better if we just—”

“No.” Scorpius shook his head with such fierceness. “If you say we have to go our separate ways, I will…” He hid his fingers in his sleeves conclusively, it was clear he was attempting to formulate something upsetting to say. Something that would set Albus off. Scorpius ducked his head warily. “Well, you know I have never been very good at threats...” He admitted bashfully, muttering scornfully at himself. He looked up at his best friend, his face strengthened. “Just don’t, okay? We’re not leaving each other. Not again. Not ever. What happened to you saying you’ll never leave me?”

“I just want you to be safe.” Albus droned in defeat, closing his eyes, resting his forehead by Scorpius’s, not caring for a second, what he thought. Not thinking of Rose. Not thinking of Scorpius admitting he fancied her. None of that mattered right now. What mattered in that very moment, was that they were safe, untouched by the perils of the wizarding world. That, in that moment, he was holding his best friend, securely. 

He expected Scorpius to draw back, but to his surprise, Scorpius, leaned into his forehead, both closing their eyes, their hands clasped into each other’s. Albus wished nothing more but to pause this memory and keep it when he needed a taste of happiness. Security. Love. He needed Scorpius close by him. That nightmare felt all too well. 

“You keep me safe.” Scorpius whispered wistfully. “We keep each other safe. Whatever this is…whatever these nightmares mean, we’ll figure it out together.”

Albus smiled endearingly, keeping his eyes shut, still holding onto Scorpius, and feeling a glow of delight in his chest when he realized that Scorpius was grasping onto him just as tightly as he was. 

But…the fact was, Scorpius was with Rose. “I erm, I suspect we should be heading to bed now.” Albus’s voice quivered.

“N-no.” Scorpius squeaked, the pink splotches on his cheeks brightened. Opening his eyes, he studied his best friend’s handsome face teemed in the obscurity, who kept his eyes shut, drinking in this moment like sweet honey, afraid if he were to open then, this would be nothing but a beautiful dream. “J-just a bit longer?”

Albus nodded with a teeny smile. “Okay.” He said.

Scorpius licked his lips nervously. “Albus?” His grey eyes wondered to the left, hoping the rest of the boys were fast asleep. He thought of Albus yelling at Rose, his voice threaded with passion of rage. 

It’d be great fun too, watching you snog Scorpius—my Scorpius, all day. This wasn’t the way it was supposed to be. I’m with Scorpius. I am his and he is mine.

Could it mean what he thought it meant? 

“Yeah?” Albus asked daintily, his eyes were still snapped shut. 

“I love that you’re mine.”

Even in the dark shadows of the night, Scorpius could see the rosiness that stained his friend's fetching face. Albus ran his fingers up and down Scorpius’s closed fists endearingly. “Me too,” He said.


	6. The Slytherin’s Secret

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I decided to publish the 6th chapter today since today is September 1st 2017! The day in Harry Potter history, when these lovebirds first meet! :D
> 
> TRIGGER WARNING: MENTIONS OF SELF INFLICTION/CUTTING

The next day, Albus and Scorpius walked side by side down the Hogwarts corridors, their heavy Slytherin robes raking onto the marble floor, their doughy hands occasionally brushing each other’s as they walked, throwing each other soft, meaningful glances. They had their minds made up: the goal was to never leave each other’s presence. The nightmares Albus kept suffering through suggested that everything will break into hell only if Albus and Scorpius are apart. Danger cannot touch them when they are together, now can it? 

Last night, they devised a plan. They would go to classes together and come straight back to the dormitory. No exceptions until stated otherwise. Of course, today, they decided to stay in the Slytherin Dormitories the whole afternoon, but that was solely because they didn’t feel like dealing with their relentless tormentors. Another task they agreed to do was to learn more spells and brew more potions. Whatever danger they were plunged in, they would face it together, exceptionally prepared and dauntless as ever. 

Albus, planned to show Scorpius the Room of Requirement today; that would be the place where they would practice spells and prepare potions. He kept imagining how astonished Scorpius would be at the sight of such an enchanted chamber. The two were on their way to steal crucial potion ingredients from the Greenhouse. Once they succeeded, Albus was going to race up the staircases with Scorpius until they reached the 7th floor. That is where the Room of Requirement rests. 

“Scorpius!” Rose said, sprinting toward the pair, appearing breathless, cloaked in her Quidditch uniform, disregarding the high pitched, overly excited ‘Hi Rose’ as she brushed by a handful of students, clearly admirers of her. Her frizzy red hair was tied in two ponytails, spilling all over her face, her chest pounding. Her blue eyes met her cousins’s who turned away as if she were venomous. She chose to ignore this, smiling amiably at the blond-haired boy. Her eyes however, seemed grave. “I’ve been held up at Quidditch practice all afternoon. Being a Chaser can be mad fun but excruciatingly exhausting. I’ve got a few minutes to spare before the game starts. Can we talk? I’ve been looking everywhere for you.” She clutched onto her Siberian Arrow Broomstick Uncle Ron had given her for her fourteenth birthday. 

Scorpius stopped walking. He faced her, searching for a smile embossed onto her dismal face. “Is everything alright?”

Rose hesitated, rolling her eyes at Albus who was now rimming his fingers across his chest and tapping his foot. She placed one of her hands on her hips, shivering with acrimony. “Albus, for goodness sake, would you care to give us some space?” 

Scorpius and Albus stared at each other in horror—space is not what they agreed upon. But surely and slowly, Scorpius nodded, his grey eyes dancing over to the corner of the hallway, signaling him to wait there. Albus smiled curtly at Rose before marching over to the end of the hall, watching the pair like a hawk as he whipped out one of his reading materials for Defense Against the Dark Arts. He had to catch up with his studies seeing as they had skipped classes yet again. 

James Sirius swaggered into the corridor with his girlfriend, Bellanthy attached to his arm, both exchanging smiles at each other, enveloped in quick kisses, with the rest of the Gryffindor team Yann, Stylia Gouldian and the Flint triplets, lurking behind him, all attractively dressed in their Quidditch uniforms. 

Albus recalled trying out for Quidditch despite Scorpius’s doubts. You’re going to knock yourself unconscious! Or worse, you’ll faint in midair! As pleasurable as it would be to watch you fly, we both know you can’t possibly land safely onto the ground. But Albus had stupidly ignored him and tried out, anyway, hoping he’d be wind up being a natural like his parents. Both excelled at Quidditch during their years at Hogwarts and his Dad was the youngest Seeker in a century! Albus had hoped he would be blessed with the same fortune as him, but to his dislike, tryouts was a disaster. The first rule was to get the broomstick in his hand and Albus could not do that. After hearing the roaring laughter of those around him, Albus had excused himself and never returned. 

Why do all the good-looking and fat-headed people play Quidditch? Rose. Yann. His brother, James. Albus thought testily, eyeing Rose’s uniform, relishing with envy, kicking himself, loathing how cool Rose looked. He watched the pair disconsolately, noticing how much they looked like a couple, how good they looked, standing there, talking to each other. For a bittersweet moment, he imagined being in Rose’s place. Having Scorpius come cheer zealously in the bleachers, dithering his Slytherin flag with great fervour. Hearing him shriek in delight every time Albus scored a point for the house of snakes. How Scorpius would dash into Albus’s opened arms after their triumphant win and how Albus would shyly lean in and give him a kiss in the mouth while the rest of the Slytherin team cheered them on. How good it felt to hold him. How right it felt. But…that wasn’t reality. That wasn’t how it worked. If that did happen…if they were together, he would be mistreated even further. Who bloody cares? Albus thought. Albus realized he didn’t care anymore. He didn’t care if being with Scorpius meant facing subjugation. That was a price he was willing to pay. But the question was: Was Scorpius? 

James waved warmly at his brother. “AL!” He yelled. “Hey, Al!” He flapped his muscular arms in the air, trying to get his attention. “Al you idiot!”  
Albus looked up from his copy of "Defensive Magical Theory" by Wilbert Slinkhard, his bored face changing to dismay when his eyes met Yann’s, who smirked at him maliciously. 

“Oh right, hi.” Albus said unnervingly, shutting his book.

“DID YOU DO THE THING?” James bellowed from across the hallway, turning curious heads over to his direction to his delight. “THE YOU KNOW WHAT?” He twisted his face over to Scorpius and grinned, winking warmly at his brother. “Oh, hey Scorpius…” 

“JAMES!” Albus hissed irritably, throwing his book at him. “SHUT UP!” 

But James was quicker and easily caught the book with one hand and flung it back at Albus, who caught it midway, and then watched it slipped out of his hands within seconds. He grunted with defeat and muttered a swear word as he bent down to retrieve it. He couldn’t even catch a measly old book. How abject was that? 

James grinned at Albus, surprised that he nearly caught the paperback. He turned to Yann, nudging him. “That’s my brother, mate. Pretty great, yes?” But he didn’t wait for him to answer, and whirled around at Rose. “Oi Redhead! You don’t have time to snog your boyfriend! Let’s go!” James called. “The game is going to start soon!” 

“For goodness sake, quiet, James!” Rose said impatiently. “The game starts in an hour. We have plenty of time.” 

“Fine, Red.” James huffed. “But don’t point fingers my way if Slytherin snubs the Quidditch Cup!” He nodded at his team who followed him into the Quidditch Field with the rest of the eager students running behind them, all dressed in Gryffindor and Slytherin attire. This was the game of the season. Everything was showing off their House Pride. 

Rose turned back to Scorpius with a skittish smile. She heaved closer to Scorpius, winding her fingers with his, while her left hand kept a stable grip on her broomstick as if she were positive that someone would try to rip the broom out of her arms. She pursed her pink lips together with a tiresome sigh, gazing down at his confounded face. “I hate to say this, believe me, I do, especially since I know it’ll make my cousin jump over the walls with glee but I’m sorry, I need to break up with you.” 

It was like Christmas had arrived two months early. An ebullient jeer made its way onto Albus’s suddenly bright face and then quickly—before anyone else could notice his joy, he swallowed his pride, forcing a frown, realizing Scorpius was most definitely heartbroken. His bright green eyes watched the end of the hall to keep himself from beaming, observing the loud students pouring out of the mouths of the opened doors, just finishing up their classes, chatting vigorously before sprinting into the courtyard waving their house flags triumphantly. He just had to make sure that he wasn’t facing Rose and Scorpius, otherwise, he would break out into a grin, evidentially gloating. Lily Luna rushed into the hall, as fast as lightning, her crimson braids flying over her shoulder at each step, determined to make it to the Quidditch game but stopped abruptly when she noticed Albus.

“ALBUS HI!” Lily said blithely, pushing him into a hug. She looked up at him with unmistakable elation, still holding onto him like glue. “Hogwarts is great! I can’t understand why you hate it so much.” 

“And you never will.” He mumbled callously, pushing her off of him, as if he couldn’t stand to be touched by her. But she clung onto him, her arms wrapping around his waist. “Where are you off to?”

Lily stared at him in disbelief, as if she, like him, were wondering how on earth they were related, a question he often found himself asking every day to the pitiful skies. “The game, of course!” She reeled around the corridor, biting her cherry lips in marvel. “Where is Hugo?” She sighed dispiritedly, clicking her tongue, the way their Mom does whenever she is thwarted. “We were supposed to make Gryffindor signs together before the game. I’ve got mine ready, but Hugo tends to laze off.”

Yann, however, was still staring him down like he wanted nothing more than to devour him and to wear his intestines as a crown. Albus quickly seized his sister’s arm. He couldn’t be alone. Yann would only see that as an invitation to strike. What was worse? That he was scared of Yann? Or that he was using his sister as protection? That he needed his little sister to make the bad guys go away? He knew that as long as he was interacting with Lily, no harm would be done. James Sirius was there, too, but he was certainly not paying attention to this conflict. All James cared about at that moment was snogging Bellanthy. 

James lied. He swore he would try to look out for him more now. Yet he was doing nothing in his power to protect Albus. But, then again, it’s not James’s fault. He had no idea that Yann was one of his many tormentors. Sure he could tell James, but that would only make matters worse. 

“Albus, what is it?” Lily asked, squinting at him.

He pasted a smile on his face that didn’t match his demeanor. “Erm, nothing.” Albus lied. “I just want to make sure you know where you’re going.”

“Of course I do!” Lily giggled at him. She fluffed her Gryffindor robes with such care before peering around the corridors. An excited smile stretched onto her face and she grasped onto Albus’s hand harder. “IT’S HUGO!” She pumped her fist in the air. “YES! HE HAS A SIGN READY!” She turned to her bother empathetically. “Sorry, Albus, I have to go!” 

Lily zoomed over to Hugo, toppling him over with her great embrace. Albus smiled to himself, and couldn’t help but think of Scorpius in that moment. Their hugs were just as passionate. Albus’s green eyes travelled again to the Scorpius and Rose, wishing he had Extendable Ears so he could hear what they were going on about.  
Scorpius felt a mixture of confusion, sadness and relief as he stared unflinchingly at Rose. Unsure how to express his emotions and feelings, he leaned in and pecked a kiss on Rose’s cheek. 

Rose face turned as crimson as her pigtails, quickly drawing away from him, flicking away the tiny butterflies gliding around her heart. “You do know why I am doing this, don’t you?” She asked, skimming her eyes onto Albus, and then back at him. She ran her fingers up and down the wooden seat of her broom. “You fancy him.”  
Scorpius turned redder than her, shaking his head, praying at this very moment, Delphi would come find him and kill him. Okay, maybe not her in particular. Just anyone. He wished for death. He wished to be knocked unconscious so he would not have to look at Rose for another anguishing moment. He didn’t want to hear anymore. Did she really say that he, Scorpius Hyperion Malfoy liked Albus? Albus? Albus Severus Potter? Albus, his best friend? No, no she didn’t say that. And wait—did she said it loudly? Did Albus hear her?

Scorpius stirred his flunky body to Albus who let out a husky yawn, rumpling his hair, shuffling his feet ineptly in place. Professor Longbottom walked down the hallway with his auburn suitcase hooked to his left hand, his moustache twitching each time he smiled politely at his students. He stopped immediately at the sight of Albus, who only stared up at him, appearing maladroit and irksome as ever. Neville, however, merely grinned and walked up to him.

“How are you, today, Albus?” Scorpius heard him say.

“Just fine, Sir.” Albus responded smoothly. 

“I don’t recall seeing you and Scorpius in my class today.”

“Oh really?” He looked him straight in the eye, fluently coming up with a fib. He was an excellent liar. He breathed so many lies each day that it was starting to come naturally. “Well that’s because Scorpius and I had to study for the Potions final. We wanted to devote all of our time studying.”

“Yet you somehow managed to make it to the Quidditch game I see.” Neville said calmly. There was no anger nor frustration in his voice, to Albus’s surprise. He seemed to be in a relatively good mood today. Maybe that’s because Albus didn’t ruin his lesson plans for today and set his papers on fire. 

Albus rubbed the back of his dark hair inattentively. “Well, you see, we just wanted to bid my brother and Rose good luck before the big game, and then we’ll be heading back in our room.”

Scorpius smiled from the corner of his mouth. Albus was probably one of the best liars he knew. What matters is that he clearly he did not hear what Rose had said. Thank Dumbledore. 

“You like Albus.” Rose repeated softly, staring him dead in the eye, waiting for him to respond. “It’s fine.” She said, gazing down at her black boots. “I should have figured it out earlier. I mean everyone knows…”

Scorpius glowered at Rose incredulity, his jaw was wide open, unable to move, paralyzed in astonishment. He tried to speak, but nothing would come out. “T-that…I don’t—” He looked around at his hands, cursing himself quietly, realizing that there was no book he could crack open and hide his face in. “I-I…don’t know what you mean…”

“You know perfectly well what I mean.” Rose snapped. Clearly, she wasn’t able to disguise her pain as much as she would like to. 

“Wait—everyone knows?” Scorpius was absolutely horrified. “Who is everyone? Who knows, Rose?”

“A fair bunch from Hogwarts. They mutter it behind your backs. Anyway, don’t worry about that right now…”

“They’re lying!” Scorpius cried, shaking his head disbelievingly. “I’m not—we’re not. I’m—it’s not like that!”

She sighed deeply, throwing her head back at the ceiling, her patience effortlessly slipping away to her disinclination. “I need to hear you say it, Scorpius. Admit it. For both our sakes.”

“I can’t—you can’t force me.” Scorpius said, his grey eyes plummeting with hurt bewilderment. 

“I know. I’m sorry.” She replied, realizing she crossed a line. “I do like you, Scorpius, I still like you.” Rose said, stroking her broomstick sullenly, wishing the pain of rejection did not burn like fire. Yet, at this very moment, she could feel herself scorching with heartbreak. She looked up at him, holding back her awakening tears, breathing a brave smile. “But I’m not yours. Your heart belongs to Albus. And that’s okay.” 

“R-Rose!” Scorpius stammered, whipping his head back at Albus to make sure he wasn’t listening. 

But he and Professor Longbottom were still talking to one another. Albus leaned against the pebbled wall, his arms creased across his chest, clearly disinterested, while Professor Longbottom stood in front of him as he spoke. He dropped his brown suitcase on the ground so he could use his hands to talk with exaggeration. Every once in a while, Professor Longbottom would twist his face to the left to shoot a glare at Yann, a quiet threat to leave Albus alone and to not even think about inflicting anymore pain on him. 

Scorpius turned to her again, throwing his hands into the air, his face flushed with humiliation. “I…I don’t…know…what to say…I—” He shook his head fiercely, his jaw tightening. “N-no!” He yelped, taking a step back from her, as if putting some distance between the pair would somehow make her accusation disappear into thin air. “I…I don’t believe you. Do you know how many books I’ve read in my life? And not one—not a single one teaches me anything about—” He blushed deeply, closing his eyes. “—it’s never mentioned. It’s a taboo. It’s undocumented. Nowhere in the library does it speak of such thing. It’s—I’m not…I’m not like that. I don’t know what made you think—how could you say that? What makes you say that?” His voice grew louder and high-pitched, like it didn’t belong to him. 

“Scorpius.” Rose said gently, cupping her hands with his. But the minute she touched him, he drew back at once, affronted. “It’s okay—”

“No!” Scorpius’s voice trembled. “No. You know I’m not like that. I don’t know where you got that from, but please retreat it. Please take it back. Because that’s not true. I am not—I can’t be. I’m a Malfoy. If my Dad knew…he’d—just stop it. Please. I can’t hear anymore. I won’t.”

Rose’s eyes scanned around the room. People were starting to stare, Neville and Albus included. “Scorpius,” Rose said lightly, her eyes twirling around the corridor, feeling wholly chagrined. She was used to being stared at, but not like this. When people watched her, it was because they admired her. Fancied her, even. But the way people were looking at her at this very moment proved to be different. They stared at her like she was an outsider. Like she didn’t belong—and for the first time, she finally knew what it was like to be an outcast. To be Scorpius. To be her cousin, Albus. She chestnut eyes strolled over to Scorpius’s silver, shadowy glimpse. Her smile came out wounded. “Do you want to talk about this in private?”

“No!” Scorpius stomped his foot. “There’s nothing more to say. It’s not true, what you said, Rose.” His eyes met Albus and he bobbed down at once, his voice lowering. “Please don’t tell Albus. Don’t tell anyone of your suspicions. It’s not true. It isn’t. I’ll—I’ll prove it to you. I’ll…erm, find a good textbook explaining everything. It’ll tell you. You’ll see. I’m fine. I’m normal. I’m good. Good as ever. Straight as ever. I’m the straightest straight you’ll ever meet straight on.” 

Rose flashed a dirty look at him, clearly unimpressed. “That isn’t funny, Scorpius.”

“Oh please.” Scorpius said. “That was hilarious. But you wouldn’t understand. Albus would think it was funny.” But as soon as he mentioned Albus’s name, pinks froths of vexation simmered on his slender cheeks. 

“Of course he would.” Rose said dryly, her face scribbled with a shrewd smirk. 

Albus walked over to the pair while waving goodbye to Neville, who returned his beam and stalked over to the courtyard. “Everything alright here?” Albus said quietly, his green eyes studying the two with most angst. 

“Never better.” Rose uttered, flicking her nails. 

“Just fine!” Scorpius said at the same time. 

“Is it now?” Rose chimed in, eyebrows raised. “Everything is straight as can be, yes?”

“Stop it, Rose!” Scorpius cried. 

“Just tell him for goodness sake!” 

“Never!”

“My arse never!”

“WHAT’S GOING ON?” Albus asked loudly, feeling rather annoyed at the two bickering. 

Rose and Scorpius stared at each other grudgingly. Both had their arms traversed, refusing to look at each other, glaring at the opposite direction. 

Albus turned to Scorpius. His voice was suddenly warm like syrup. “Tell me what, Scorp? You okay?”

“In a matter of fact, no, he is not okay, Albus.” Rose responded, her compelling eyes sparkling with frustration. “The truth is—”

“It’s Delphi!” Scorpius interrupted. Albus looked at him at once. Scorpius clearly caught his attention. He threw a victorious leer at Rose, nodding at Albus. “Yes…it’s Delphi. I thought about it and I think you should write a letter to your Dad. Tell him. Tell him about the nightmares before it’s too late!”

“So you are having nightmares!” Rose gasped, dropping her broomstick. She ran in front of her cousin, pressing her palm against his forehead. “Are you feeling ill, Albus? Are you hurt?”

“Nice going, Scorp.” Albus mumbled, kicking Rose’s broomstick, watching it roll to the corner of the hall. “It was supposed to be a secret. Now she is going to tell Aunt Hermione. Or worse, my Dad.” 

“If you don’t,” Rose countered tilting her head to the side, “I will. The choice is yours. What are the nightmares about? Do you need to see Madam Pomfrey? Perhaps she’ll brew you a Sleeping Draught. I hear they’re quite helpful.”

“Not to mention addictive.” Scorpius piped in. 

“Get off me.” He snarled. “I’m not hurt, Rose. Honestly.” Albus said trying to pry her hands off of him. But truth be told, he did enjoy being looked after. Having someone worry about him. Having Rose actually show some interest in his life. “I’m fine.” He nodded earnestly at her. “Really.” He smiled at her for the first time, as friends. “You have nothing to worry about.”

“Hmm if it is Delphi you’re having dreams of, perhaps we should investigate. It is quite bothersome.” Rose said, obviously disregarding everything Albus had said. 

“Who said anything about Delphi?” Albus questioned defensively. He rounded on Scorpius. “Did you tell her?” He accused.

“What? No!” Scorpius said. 

“Quiet, Albus. Scorpius told me nothing. I just—well it’s obviously about her!” Rose responded, lifting up her broomstick and coiling it in the air as she spoke. “I know it is. Anyway, if you are having nightmares of her, maybe she…well, I don’t know. Maybe she imprinted the Dark Mark on you or something. How else are you having nightmares of her? She must have built a connection with you through Dark Magic. Perhaps you’re a Horcrux, just like your father was?”

Albus shivered. “That’s a big stretch.”

“Yes,” Rose agreed with a shaky laugh, putting down her broom and curling her fingers with his, visibly anxious. “But you should never rule it out. I’ll check in the library—in the Restricted Section after the game to see if it there are books about Horcruxes.”

“Hey, that’s not fair! How come you get to go?” Scorpius whined. “I want to go to the Restriction Section! I’ll do it. I’m going.” He volunteered, raising his arm in the air as if he were in class, waving it in both Albus and Rose’s baffled faces, waiting to be called on. 

Albus smiled at Scorpius pleasantly, pointing at him. No one was as dorky as Scorpius. “Every time I ask you to come to the Restriction Section with me, you chicken out. You agree sometimes, but three seconds into it, you always back out. You hate breaking the rules.” Albus laughed. “How come you are suddenly so interested?” 

“Well,” Scorpius said timorously, retracting his hands into his sleeves, like a turtle hiding in its shell. “You’re the best person I know and if you are in danger, I want to help, even if that means endangering my very existence.”

“That sounds very straight of you.” Rose teased playfully.

“Sorry didn’t catch that. Very what?” Albus asked. 

“Nothing!” Scorpius squeaked, scowling at Rose. “Now, erm, what should we do?”

“I’ll study Albus to see if he has the Dark Mark!”

“You’re mad, you know that, right?” Albus rolled his eyes. 

Rose stood on her tippy toes and checked the back of his neck. She bit her lip and began rolling down his sleeves.

“Stop—no not there!” Albus panicked, trying to withdraw his arm. “Hey stop. Don’t roll up the sleeves! Seriously—stop!”

But it was too late. Albus’s forearms were revealed and covered with red, angry, erratic scratches slashed on his wrists in a fitful pattern. There was a harrowing, tenebrific silence as Scorpius and Rose stared at his wrists with absolute consternation. 

“Al...Albus?” Rose whispered, her eyes watery. “N-no. No.” She cleaved onto him, her arms linking onto his wrists, observing his forearms in disbelief. She shook her head. “Albus?” She croaked. “Why would you—? Oh Albus!” She wept loudly, curtaining her arms around him, embracing him as tightly as she possibly could. Albus hugged her back, wishing at this very moment, that he had access to a Timeturner yet again. He never wanted anyone to find out about this. They didn’t understand—couldn’t understand and Albus knew they never would. Albus’s emerald eyes were focused solely on his best friend, who did his absolute best to evade eye contact. 

Scorpius grimaced at the cuts on Albus’s forearms. His eyes were wide-eyed and hurt. He kept shaking his head and closing his eyes, hoping this was nothing more than a sick, twisted nightmare. When he woke up, Albus’s wrists would be clean. Fresh. It wouldn’t be slashed in red branches of self-inflicted lacerations. 

How did he miss this? How did Scorpius not see this coming? How long has Albus been hurting himself? And why—why hasn’t he confided in him? Scorpius was a failure. He failed him. He failed Albus the minute he started hurting himself. What kind of friend does that? What kind of friend is unaware to his friend’s suffering? No, Scorpius wasn’t oblivious. He was quite bright. He was smart. He read a lot. Got Outstandings in all of his classes—except in Defense Against the Dark Arts, of course. He always had a Plan B. He always was prepared for the unthinkable. But nothing—nothing could prepare him for this. This wasn’t supposed to happen. No. No. What did he do? He should have known. This was all his fault. If he just checked his wrists once in a while, this wouldn’t have happened. No. it was becoming clearer now. Albus always worn long-sleeves, even in the sizzling heat. Scorpius never asked him why. He just suspected it was one of his many quirks. He had never, in a million years, imagined this. 

“Scorp,” Albus said softly, he too, was trying his very best not to fall apart. “Look at me.” 

Scorpius kept his grey eyes interlocked with Albus’s inflamed slits and bit his lip to keep himself from crying. His entire face trembled, and for a second, Scorpius thought he would have a breakdown, but he forced himself to stay relaxed. Rose was already sobbing on Albus. Albus needed someone to stay strong for him and with him. 

But Scorpius shook his head. “I can’t.” He whispered.


	7. Quills and Questions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hey lovelies! I am SOO sorry for the one month delay! :O I have been back in college so the work has been eating up my writing time. :O Buuuut my college is on Strike, so that means more writing time for me! I hope you all like chapter 7!
> 
> TRIGGER WARNING: MENTIONS OF SELF INFLICTION/CUTTING

“I’m fine.” Albus said, hoping the lie would convince them otherwise, rolling his sleeves up. He took a huge step back, cautiously removing Rose’s slinked arms off his neck. He watched the pair cagily. This was the last thing he had anticipated. No one was ever supposed to know about this. They didn’t understand—they didn’t know what was really going on and he wasn’t sure he could trust them with the truth. This wasn’t his fault. Not entirely, at least. 

“We’re going to Madam Pomfery.” Rose decided at once, her face hard. Her mascara was smudging her ruddy cheeks despite her best efforts to wipe the blackened streaks away. She pinched her nails into Albus’s sleeves and began escorting him down the corridor, the way her Mom pulled Hugo around whenever he misbehaved. Albus unravelled himself off of her and thrashed out of the corridor, slipping into the hallow hallway, stalking over to library instead, taking harsh hurried steps. 

“Albus, come back!” Rose called loudly, her voice echoing as she sprinted towards him, with Scorpius trailing behind her, hoisting Rose’s broomstick for her. He rested the broom against the brick wall and watched his best friend continue hiking down the foyer, his hands stuffed into his pockets. Rose grabbed the collar of his robes, pulling it back viciously so Albus would have no choice but to face her. “You’re going!” Rose snarled. “This is not up for discussion.”

“What are you, my Mother?” Albus retorted. 

“As scary as, I hope.” Rose shot back. “Just wait until she hears that her son is—”

Albus plucked out his wand from his robes as if he were expecting an attack. “Is what?” His eyes were fuming. “Is what, now?” He shouted.

“STOP IT!” Scorpius shrieked, stepping in front of Albus, his hands dithering in the air, appearing like a bloke lost in sea. He turned to Rose with fury, who now had her wand clutched in her hands, aiming at her cousin. “What are you doing?” He hissed. “Do you really think arguing is the best idea right now? He doesn’t need that!” 

Scorpius continued to stare at Albus in mystification. What do you do when your best friend, the person you trust most in the world, turns out to be a complete stranger? It is like everything you’ve ever known was a lie. Scorpius spent his years at Hogwarts trying to protect Albus. Trying to shelter him from the bullies, from problems at home, from the fame and reputation he never asked for, from his own Father who sometimes made cruel remarks about Albus and his family, but Scorpius never knew he had to protect Albus from himself. 

Rose let out a sigh of trounce. “You’re right.” She admitted remorsefully, tucking her wand back into her pocket. She extended out her arms and held Albus’s face with her hands; despite the fact she was wearing her Quidditch gloves, she could still feel how ice cold he was. “I’m sorry. I truly am. I’m just…” Her voice quivered. “…I’m scared for you.”

“You don’t have to be.” Albus said silkily. He offered her a smile, hoping she’d believe it; that she somehow would not be able to see past the pain. “Can we pretend this never happened? Go to your game, Rose. Win the Quidditch Cup. Forget about this. You’ll be late. Don’t do that, Rose. Stop—don’t look at me like that. Like I’m wounded. Like I’m broken.”

Rose folded her arms across her chest. “I’ll stop looking at you like that when you give me a reason not to.” She told him, jerking her head to the right. “Madam Pomfery. Now.” Her voice grew softer. “Please, Albus.”

“Enough, Rose!” Albus cried, keeping his hands stuck in the deepened pockets of his Slytherin robes, appearing to be fidgeting with an object of some sort. “You don’t understand—you couldn’t possibly understand—”

“Then explain it to me!” Rose cut him off. “How long have you been doing this?” She asked the question as if she already knew the answer.

“None of your business.” He squabbled scornfully. Albus began massaging his temples with evident annoyance. “Just forget about this. I can’t explain it to you, anyway. You won’t get it.”

“Try me.” 

“It’s nothing—”

“This isn’t nothing, Albus. This is far from it. This is serious.” Rose said. “Are you doing this because—? Is it because of—?” But Rose stopped herself quickly and sighed. She continued to cry softly, not bothering to erase the spattered streaks trilling down her bony cheeks. “Is it the bullies? Is it Hogwarts?”

“I can’t talk about this, okay?” Albus sighed. He began pacing down the corridor, trying his very best to bottle his umbrage. “It’ll only make things worse for me. Just—please go. I…I need to be alone, alright?”

“OI REDHEAD!” James called from the courtyard, his face plastered with a giant smile. He ran to them, swathing an arm around Rose with a goofy grin. He spotted his brother in front of the library and rolled his eyes. When James was disappointed, he was a splitting image of his Dad. “You seriously going to hang out in the library during the biggest game of the season?” James asked him. He thrashed his head over to Rose. “Game is going to start soon. Shall we go? It’s time to kick Slytherin’s arse!” He turned to Scorpius apologetically. “No offence, mate.” His lively eyes stuck onto the colourless wall where Rose’s broomstick napped. He drew out his wand. “Accio Siberian Arrow!” Immediately, the broomstick flew into his opened hand. He turned to Scorpius and Albus, as if he were expecting an applause of some sort and seemed absolutely disappointed when they were soundless. Nevertheless, he beamed as he handed the broom to Rose. “Let’s go win!” His brown eyes observed Rose’s damp cheeks and he leapt back at once. “OI WHAT’S GOING ON?” He looked at Scorpius and Albus’s grave expressions and winced. James’s smile immediately disappeared, his jaw scrunched. He clasped his wand, taking turns directing it at the three. “What happened?” He of course, had no intention of using his wand at any of them. Drawing out his wand when things seemed most dark was merely a force of habit he could not get out of.

“James,” Rose said wretchedly, pushing his arm back down at once, pointing at Albus’s lengthy sleeves, debating whether she should pry them up or not. She decided, with great defeat, to do the latter. “It’s…it’s your brother. It’s awful. Albus…he…he’s—”

“Albus yelled at Rose because she broke up with me!” Scorpius spit out, his words dripping out like fire. He studied James’s confused face, hoping he bought the bait. “Yes…that is the truth…that is exactly why Rose is crying…”

“Blimey you broke up with Scorpius?” James gasped, then turning to wink at Albus. He nudged him warmly on the shoulder while squeezing Rose’s sharp shoulder empathetically. “That’s awful for you, though.” He said, still holding onto the pair of them. “Al, why’d you have to yell at Rose? You know she’s a sensitive soul.”

“I am a terrible person, I know.” Albus muttered, disengaging himself off of his brother and turning to go. “I’m erm, going to be heading up to my room now.”

“NO!” Rose and Scorpius yelled at the same time.

“We…we’re…we’re going to Madam Pomfery,” Scorpius reminded him, looking from Albus to James, “she wants to meet us for tea…remember?”

“Oh yes, that is right.” Rose smiled sadly, still drying her eyes. “Do tell me what she says, okay?”

“Of course.” Scorpius nodded.

“Right, Madam Pomfery.” Albus repeated, feeling like he was being ruthlessly controlled by a wicked puppet-master. He didn’t want to go to the Hospital Wing. Why couldn’t anyone understand that? He didn’t need to see any doctor. What’s worse is that he hated the way Rose and Scorpius were staring at him. It’s like he was an abused Niffler who had just gotten taken out of an abusive home. Albus couldn’t bear to look at anyone right now. He gaped at the floor as he spoke despondently. “I hope Gryffindor wins.” 

But James looked unconvinced. “Al, are you sure everything is alright?” He loomed towards him, placing his hands on his shoulder. His voice was a quiet whisper. “You can tell me anything, mate.”

Albus nodded, and proceeded to stick his hands inside his pockets once more, and continued fiddling with a jagged object in his closed fist. “Tired, is all.”  
James pulled him into a hug. “We’ll talk later?” He murmured.

“Of course.” Albus said, dropping the article into his robes as he embraced his sibling. 

Rose casted Albus a devastating gaze before departing out the corridors with an anxious James in tow, both marching off into the courtyard, which was bursting with bright colours and cries of excitement. 

“Let’s go to Madam Pomfery,” Scorpius whispered pensively, once he was sure James and Rose were out of sight. He trudged towards him with a dismayed expression stapled on his face. His silver eyes found Albus’s strikingly green ones; their irises were tarnished in a sea of agony and dejection. 

Albus shook his head stubbornly, his jaw clamped shut. “I can’t, Scorp.” He murmured, ignoring Scorpius’s constant tug of his sleeve. “I know how it’ll work. I have a fair idea, anyway. She won’t allow visitors. They’ll keep me in the Hospital Wing for ages and—well, we can’t separate. It’s an awful idea. Now isn’t the time, Scorpius! Don’t you understand? Separating only gives Delphi the satisfaction she doesn’t deserve.”

Scorpius drew closer to Albus, remaining rather cool and collected in spite of feeling merely inches away from sobbing hysterically. Albus needed help and Scorpius was determined to do all he can to make sure he got it. 

He and Albus were nearly the same height; Albus was only a few inches taller. Their eyes were locked onto one another. Scorpius swallowed hard. He could never imagine living a life without Albus. He could never imagine waking up to not finding Albus by his side. Gazing into his green eyes made him feel safe. Cared for—and no one cared for him like Albus did. Wait. Hang on a minute. What was he saying? Could Rose be right after all? Was he—? Did he fancy Albus that way? No, no of course not. It was all in his head…right?

Albus took a heedful breath and leaned his head against the marbled wall before sluggishly sinking onto the floor, dragging his stiff body at the slow fall and pulling his legs up to his knees, enveloping his arms over them. Scorpius watched him carefully, copying his demeanor, however, he stretched his legs out in front of him and stared dolefully at his best friend.

“Delphi isn’t my concern at the moment.” Scorpius said, reaching out and placing his hand on his knee. Albus’s empty eyes refocused at his touch. “You are.” Scorpius said simply, keeping his hand on him. “I don’t…don’t care if she returns. I’ll let her torture me, no problem. I just…I can’t—I won’t—” Scorpius stopped talking and closed his eyes shut. “I get it…” He found himself saying. “…about you wanting to do all you can to keep me safe. How you’re so willing to put yourself in mortal danger for me. Let me do the same for you. Let me help you.” 

Albus’s green eyes lingered onto his own sleeves, worried that Scorpius would roll them up to see his scars. He folded his arms across his chest for good measure, brushing Scorpius off of him, pretending he was that easy to dispose of; his fingers were noticeably shaking. “I don’t need your help.” He croaked.

“Albus,” Scorpius said evenly, his smoky eyes observing Albus’s shakiness. He refused to be whisked away that simply and strung his fingers with Albus’s instead. He felt so comforted by his touch and deeply hoped that Albus felt the same way. “Please.” Scorpius pleaded weakly. 

“Let me help you for all the times I couldn’t. For all the times I wasn’t there for you whenever you…” But Scorpius couldn’t finish his sentence. He instead, turned away from Albus, quickly dabbing his eyes, hoping this would go unseen. Albus continued staring at the bricked wall, pretending he was so fascinated by its demeanor, when really, all he was doing was thinking about hurting himself yet again. That urge, that terrible urge to cut was racing through his veins. 

“This has got nothing to do with you, Scorp. It’s me. It’s all me.”

“I want you,” Scorpius whispered, “to tell me why.” 

“I can’t…c-can’t do that,” Albus stammered, inching closer to the entrance of the library. He let out a sigh of annoyance and readjusted his position. His legs stretched out onto the floor, like Scorpius’s, and both turned to gaze at one another, neither boys uttered a word. 

Scorpius wanted nothing more than to scoop Albus into his arms and promise him that everything would be alright. But Scorpius knew he would only be feeding him with a lie. Scorpius knew both were seamlessly in danger with Delphi being, apparently hungry for vengeance. What’s far worse is the horrid red branches that were scribbled irately onto Albus’s forearms. That was something Scorpius could never get out of his head. 

“Albus,” Scorpius said quietly, heaving closer until their shoulders kissed. “If you don’t want to go to Madam Pomfery—if you don’t want to talk to her about this, then that’s fine. But please…at least talk to me…”

Albus stared at his best friend incredulously. He opened his mouth for a mere moment and closed it again. Where would he start? What would he say? There were a million reasons why he did what he did and even though all of those reasons made sense to him, he knew they would be foreign to Scorpius. But then again, Scorpius was his best friend who understood him like no other. Albus knew the option of going to the Hospital Wing was an awful idea. He certainly wasn’t going to waltz over to there and pull up his sleeves for Madam Pomfery to see. He couldn’t dare to confide in Rose either for she would only blubber all over him followed by a heated lecture. And telling James would destroy him. He might as well dig a grave for James to plummet into because such news would kill him. All he needed, all he ever needed, was right in front of him: Scorpius. 

Albus closed his eyes, his fists clenched. “I did this because…well—I hated himself. I hated this school. I hated the bullying. I hated what Delphi did to you—to us.” His voice grew shaky as tears filled his eyes. “I hate…I hate who I am.”

Scorpius rubbed Albus’s sleeves with empathy, wishing he could erase his scars simply by his stroke. “The bullies are awful here—I agree. B-but we have each other…right? We fight them off together.” Scorpius tried to smile. “Or we run away from them together.”

Albus’s slim shoulder shook as he giggled. Messing up his hair, and stared at Scorpius’s solemn face, his eyes trailing from Scorpius’s dusky irises to his moist lips. “Yeah we do, don’t we?”

“Why do you hate yourself?” Scorpius pondered, his eyes falling to Albus’s sleeves yet again. Quickly, Scorpius adjusted his gaze, focusing on Albus’s rumpled hair. “What could you possibly hate about yourself?” He probed. “More importantly, what is there to hate? You are the greatest person I know. Every quality about you is wonderful.” Scorpius cowered his head chastely with a knowing leer. “Okay, minus the temper.”

Albus let out a laugh once again, pushing Scorpius softly aside. “Shut up.” He smiled.

“When did you start?” Scorpius blurted out, a question he had been trying to keep inside. As soon as he realized what he had let escape between his lips, Scorpius shielded his face in ignominy, silently muttering a curse word beneath his breath.

Albus’s face darkened at once. “Oh. Erm…”

“I’m sorry!” Scorpius panicked. “I don’t know why I asked that. You don’t have to answer.”

“No, no. I’ll answer. Erm, only a year ago, after the whole Timeturner thing.” Albus admitted. “I swear.”

A year? Albus has been hurting himself for one whole year? Scorpius wanted to burst into tears. He wanted to lock himself in his room and wail as loud as he pleased. He did not know about this for an entire year, and Albus, bless his soul, never felt comfortable enough to tell Scorpius about this until now. No wait—Albus didn’t tell them. That’s the thing. He got caught. Scorpius had found out accidently. Had Albus ever planned to tell Scorpius about this? Or would he never have known about this if it weren’t for Rose? A million questions hovered through his head, but he had to pluck a few ones to ask Albus—vigilant questions that wouldn’t set him off. He couldn’t pick questions that would affect him. Hurt him. Sadden him. Anger him. Give him the urge to cut. 

Scorpius squeezed Albus’s hand. “When did you stop?” He consoled. 

“I—um—” Albus ducked his head down, flushed with guilt. “I…I didn’t.”

There was a deafening silence. Albus was expecting Scorpius to let go of his hand in that moment, but Scorpius only pulled him closer until the two were sitting beside each other in the same eye level. 

“You need to stop.” Scorpius pleaded feebly, as if it was that simple; a switch that could be turned on and off. 

Albus moved his hair out of his eyes and fished out an empty purple and gold package of a Chocolate Frog. He tucked the package back into his robes, and trawled out the folded collectible card which was creased into a tiny triangle. “I know.” He groaned. Albus knew full well that he had to stop cutting. He was supposed to. But the problem exactly was that: stopping. 

Scorpius struggled for the words. He felt them rising out of his lungs, but slipping back down again. “What is—how come—why Albus? Why? This can’t just be about Hogwarts and the bullies. I know there is another reason. There has to be. I could feel it, Albus. There’s something you’re not telling me.” 

“You don’t want to know!” Albus roared, shedding a tear and scraping it away as if it were poison, crushing the card in his fists and then stuffing its maimed body back into his robes. “You’d hate me if you knew.”

Scorpius extended his arms and stringed both of his hands onto Albus’s face, the same way Albus had caressed Scorpius last night. Albus always took good care of Scorpius. Now it was Scorpius’s turn. “Albus,” said Scorpius reassuringly. “You’re my companion in eternal darkness. You’re my best friend. There is nothing you could possibly say that would change that.” Scorpius moved his thumb across Albus’s wet cheeks, washing away his pool of tears. “You know…when we used the Timeturner and the world was horrifically backwards? Muggleborns were captured, tortured and killed and I was adored and on top of the world with my kingdom. Snape was there and we worked together to set things right again. We—we came across dementors—there were probably thousands of them and I could feel myself…d-d-dying. I could feel myself dying with sadness—consumed by all the dementors were making me feel. But Snape…he kept telling me that all it took was one person. All it takes is one person to feel happy again. He told me to think of you. And I did. You saved me, Albus. You are my Patronus. You fend off my dementors.” Albus was weeping harder now, he body was violently thrashing. Scorpius held onto him tighter now. “Hey hey. That was a happy story, wasn’t it? Crying is strictly prohibited. Happy tears only, my friend.” He stated and Albus choked out a laugh. Scorpius’s face stretched into a smile of relief. “There’s my Albus.” He gushed, rubbing his back warmly. “It’s going to be okay. I’m not going anywhere because I—” Scorpius stopped midway, his face now strictly somber. “I have to tell you something.” He declared, thinking about the conversation he had with Rose earlier. He placed his trifling hands on the blue marbled floor, drumming awkwardly, noticing Albus’s baffled confusion as he stared at Scorpius’s shaking hands. Scorpius turned bright pink and stopped tapping on the floor, beaming at him nervously. “Sorry—I erm…I don’t know how I am supposed to sit when I tell you this…erm…” Scorpius wiggled away from Albus until there was space lingering between them. But Scorpius merely shook his head and drew close to Albus, his fingers brushing by Albus’s black shoes. “Now, I am only going to say this once because—well, it’s not easy for me to admit. But…I need to say this. I have to. Well…here I go.” Scorpius laughed nervously. “I love…I love…love…erm…pie?” Scorpius’s ears crooked into a burning pigment of pink. “Yes. Pie. I love pie. Pie is something I love so dearly! Yes…that is what I wanted to say…that’s…what I have been holding back after all this time…that I-I love…erm…pie…” 

Albus chortled, drying his tears with his sleeves. “For someone so wise, you sure speak a lot of rubbish.” 

Scorpius guffawed along with him, turning rosier. “Erm, yes. Yes I do. Now what is it you wanted to tell me? You said you’d hate me if I knew? How could I possibly hate someone who makes me see light during the dark?” 

“Erm, nothing. I’ll tell you later.” Albus grimaced. “When I’m ready. I swear.”

“Okay. Whenever you’re ready, I’ll be right here. Don’t think I didn’t forget about erm…” Scorpius pointed to his friend’s sleeves. “…that. Something needs to be done about that. I think we ought to tell your Dad.”

“My Dad?” Albus repeated, his fuzzy eyebrows shot up. His lips knotted with ire. “Have you met him?” He shook his head fiercely. “No. That is a terrible idea. Besides, it’s not my fault!” Albus lowered his voice, but rushed his tempo. “I mean it is, but not completely. One day the quill was on my bed, in a little black package, and I thought it was a gift of some sort, I honestly thought it was from you, so I opened it but then it turned out to be—”

“Wait!” Scorpius whimpered, appearing mildly intrigued, yet absolutely terrified. “What are you talking about? What quill? What package?” 

“Fourth year.” Albus blinked. “Shortly after we defeated Delphi. Remember when we came back from defeating her?” Albus smiled with his eyes. “The pair of us came back thinking for a measly second that once everyone at Hogwarts found out about what happened, that they would see us as heroes. But guess what? They still thought we were losers. The losers who meddled with time and nearly got ourselves killed. Anyway, when I came into the Dormitory one evening after supper, I saw a black package on my bed, and the package, well, it looked like it could have been a wand of some sort. I thought it was from you, because, who else would send me presents? When I opened it, it turned out to be a long, thin and extremely sharp Black Quill with a note inside.”

“A note?” Scorpius repeated. “What did it say?” He inquired. 

Albus shook his head. “I-I don’t know exactly.” He stuttered, visibly sweating. “Well, I don’t remember. Erm, this Quill…it’s dangerous. It—it—I’m sorry. I should have never used it…I just…after a while, I felt like I deserved it.” 

“What are you talking about, Albus?” Scorpius whispered, springing to his feet.

Albus pushed his shaggy hair away from his face, messing it up with his brawny hands. He copied Scorpius and also stumbled to his feet, his arm leaning against the wall. “The Quill came with a note and instructions.” He was whispering now. “It told me to draw a few lines. The same lines as the diagram. And I didn’t need any ink with this Quill, so I thought it was a prank. Something from Uncle Ron’s Joke Shop. But after I drew the lines on a piece of parchments the ink…” He closed his eyes for several seconds, and for a moment, Scorpius thought he fell asleep. Albus folded his arms across his chest defensively, his words came out slow and damaged. “…the ink was blood, Scorpius. My blood. My blood was used as ink on that parchment and the lines I drew appeared on my wrists instead of the parchment.”

“This is Dark Magic!” Scorpius gasped, eyeing the library with tempt. “I think it’s best if we go to the You-Know-What Section. They should have loads of information on dark artifacts.” His eyes were glimmering with anticipation as he continued staring at the opened doors of the library. He turned back to Albus, quickly regarding his long sleeves and scowled. “Or perhaps, the quill must have influenced you somehow?” He suggested thoughtfully, pattering his fingers to his chin. “Perhaps the lines you’ve got on yourself mean something? Something dark?” Scorpius chewed on his nails with dread crossed on his feverish face. “So it wasn’t you, Albus. It wasn’t you.” Scorpius looked relieved. “You only did it…you only did it because the instructions told you to do it. The quill…it must have possessed you somehow.”

“No,” Albus said flatly, ignoring Scorpius’s constant gaze at his sleeves. “If it had, I wouldn’t have remembered. I know what it is like to be possessed. At least, I think I do. I remember my Mom telling me she’d been possessed by Tom Riddle’s diary when she was twelve. She would have blackouts. Lose consciousness. Be madly forgetful. I have experienced none of that. I knew what I was doing, Scorpius. It was me, Scorp. I did this to myself. It was my doing. I did it.”

“It was Dark Magic!” Scorpius insisted. He rose from his feet and bolted into the library. 

“Scorpius!” Albus beckoned, sprinting after him, disregarding the strange looks and cackles he got by a few students who strolled by the corridor. “For the love of Dumbledore,” he mumrmured lightly, where are you going?”

“To the R section!” Scorpius whispered back.

“Ah hello boys!” Professor Lovegood beamed, her voice high and dreamy as ever. She adjusted her pink spectacles and moved her long flowy dirty blonde hair away from her sea of blue eyes. “It is quite lovely to see you two again!” She was humming in a sing-song tune as she ran her fingers up and down the opened book that was floating in the air.

“Thank you.” Scorpius said politely, turning back to Albus. “Yes it is lovely indeed.” He waved her goodbye and marched over to the corner in the room so Luna would not hear them. “The You-Know-What Section probably has a ton of books on Dark Magic! Let’s go!” 

“This wasn’t Dark—”

But Scorpius could not be bothered to hear Albus through. He ran over to the back of the library, staring up at the black metal doors, reading “Restricted.” There was a thick floating piece of rope guarding the black doors. It wasn’t just a normal rope. This one was bewitched and was nearly 10 feet long, acting as an enchanted snake fenced chillingly around the Restricted Section. 

“Scorpius, you don’t have to do this.” Albus said, knowing how difficult it was for Scorpius to break the rules. “Come back.” 

Scorpius drew out his wand, aiming for the slithering rope. “I know exactly what to do. I just never had the guts. Make sure no one is looking!” 

Albus whirled around, blocking the view of Scorpius. “Alright.” He hissed, feeling adrenaline rush to his head. “Hurry!”

“Geminio!” Scorpius cried. 

The hovering black rope shook violently and spit out an exact copy of the rope looming wistfully beside it.

Albus scratched the back of his head. “Are you positive you know what you’re doing?” He queried. “Because if we get caught—?” But Albus lost his train of thought. He twisted his head back to see Luna who was now appearing to be talking to Yann. Breathing was nearly impossible at that moment. What was Yann doing here? Wasn’t he supposed to be at the game? He still had on his Gryffindor gear and was grasping his stupid Moontrimmer broomstick with evident pride and gloat. What was Yann doing in the library? He hated studying and all of that stuff. Albus was now getting second thoughts. “Hey, Scop? Maybe we shouldn’t—”

But it was too late. Scorpius pointed his wand at the authentic rope with a mischievous smile carved on his face. “Incendio!” 

The suspended coil of copious rope obliterated into black bits and just as it did, there was a deafening blaring alarm shrieking, piercing the ears of anyone who stood in the library at that moment. Blinding red lights pulsed through the room like a rapid heartbeat. Books from all shelves of all sizes were pugnaciously yanked off the shelves and thrown in all directions, knocking apprehensive children and dumbfounded professors alike. Sluggish studying students glanced up at the ceiling in mystification, confused by such chaos. Yann gasped and yanked out his wand from his coffee creamed boots, aiming for the rooftop, but nothing happened. Frantic students zoomed passed him, accidentally knocking him to the floor.

Albus quickly grabbed Scorpius’s hand and shoved them both underneath the winged rope and pushed open the dense black gates into the Restricted Section, both hiding behind the towering, tilted bookshelves. 

“We’re dead!” Scorpius panicked, peeking from behind the shelves, hiding his face with his gaunt fingers, watching the students run out of the library in fright. “I can’t get expelled! I just can’t!”

“Shush, Scorp!” 

The librarian, Ms. Lovegood, pulled out her wand which was neatly balanced by her earlobe. Directing her copper wand at the ceiling, she murmured a countercurse to quiet the commotion but no spell she uttered proved to be most helpful. She aimed his wand now at the flying books which whipped her straight across the face. She fell to the floor, holding her cheek coolly, watching destruction unfold. Students were screaming, covering their faces as they swiped the flying books away and closed their eyes to the bright blinking lights. Curious professors peered through the window, but Ms. Lovegood only shooed them off, determined to silence the blaring noise. 

“Finite Incantatem!” Luna said calmly and at once, all the noise and destruction halted. Luna smiled proudly, touching her purple pendant with a satisfied nod. “Why thank you for your help, fellow Nargle.” Luna stated in a dreamy voice. Fluffing her hair, she turned her heels to go. “Come along, students.” She said, beaming at her pupils, with an opened arm at the exit. “This library needs to be evacuated so I can do a proper investigation. Someone tried getting into the Restricted Section, I’m sure.” 

Albus pressed his fingers to his own lips, signaling Scorpius to stay quiet as he continued to watch students pour out of the chamber. Albus crouched down, pulling Scorpius down with him, as Luna made her way out of the entrance.

“Why don’t you all study in your dormitories in the meantime?” She suggested tentatively, shutting the door behind her. “I think I will go look for Professor Longbottom.” She stated to herself as she skipped down the corridor, her lustrous blonde hair bouncing at each enthusiastic step.

“Wasn’t that close?” Albus crowed, patting him affectionately on the shoulder. “For a moment, I thought you were going to pass out in fear.” He prattled as he jumped to his feet and stalked around the gigantic room, his eyes dancing around the millions of shelves that swayed all around him like trees caught in winter’s treacherous breath. 

“Yes, well I wouldn’t rule that out just yet.” Scorpius implored, rubbing his stomach weakly, but smiled at his friend nonetheless. He gazed up at the timbering bookshelves and shivered. “Now, how are we going to find the right book? There are probably hundreds of books on dark artifacts and possessions!”

“I’m not possessed!” Albus badgered, turning red with fury. “Will you stop saying that?”

Scorpius waved his hand away. “Oh, rubbish!” He stood on his tippy toes and pried off a murky purple hardcover. He examined it triumphantly and fluttered it in front of Albus’s grim face and began flipping the pages. “Look at this, Albus!” He cheered. “This book is called…’Secrets of the Darkest Arts.’ Now that is major spoiler, isn’t it? It’ll probably tell us how you were possessed by that horrific Quill.” 

Albus was growing frustrated, annoyed that his friend was so sure that Albus was not capable of doing such thing. “You’re not listening to me, Scorp. I did it. Me! Stop—don’t shake your head. I know what you want to believe, that this wasn’t me. That I couldn’t possibly have done all of this right under your nose. But I’m sorry, you have to wake up and face reality, because I did it knowingly.” 

Scorpius’s face dropped. “F-fine…f-fine…” He stammered, snapping the paperback shut at once, lodging it beneath his armpit and gliding to another shelf, skimming the potholed backs of the burgundy books. Scorpius could feel himself decaying. Wanting to run away. To break into tears. “Y-you’re right…” Scorpius choked out. “…all of this did h-h-happen right under my n-n-nose…”

“No,” Albus said quickly, putting his hand on Scorpius’s spine. “No, Scorp. I’m sorry. Hey. Look at me.” 

Resentfully but surely, Scorpius turned to look at Albus. Both boys were equally frustrated as they were miserable. Albus reached out, and took Scorpius’s hand, and nested it by his heart, an odd gesture he found himself doing more frequently each day. He squinted at Scorpius whose eyes swam over to their interlocked fingers. His expression was unreadable; probably because the place offered no comfort of light. The Restricted Section was cloaked in darkness. The only light that was present came from the wheezing yellow breath puffing out of the rusted oiled lamp crouched beside the antique shelf that the two boys were standing in front of.  
“I didn’t mean that.” Albus continued. “I didn’t mean to hurt you. Just—this isn’t your fault. The fault is mine. I just…I want you to hear me out. Please. Just hear me out, alright? It was me. I cut myself. I did it. The quill didn’t make me do anything. This wasn’t Dark Magic. I knew what I was doing, Scorp. I just—I couldn’t stop after that. I wanted to stop as soon as I realized what was happening, honestly, but a part of me wanted to continue. A part of me thought—this pain is well deserved. I deserve to feel pain. I deserve to suffer. This is what happens to people who are…people who are bad like me. As I was doing it…I kept thinking how much I deserved to be punished. How good it felt to use the Quill. How it strangely made me feel alive. I always feel numb—except when I am around you. But when I used the Quill, it woke me up. It brought me back to life. I felt alive. I didn’t feel empty anymore. It’s like I’ve left this world of pain behind and entered a new world. A little escape of reality for a bit. Even if it were just for a few minutes. And after that, erm, it became a pattern. I would trace these lines over and over again every night and it would bleed into my forearms. It became a warped routine. I did it because I wanted to. Not because I was possessed—or influenced by Dark Magic. I did it because I hate Hogwarts. I did it because the bullies are evil. I did it because when I use the Black Quill, I forget about all of that pain for a while and focus on this pain instead.” Albus looked at Scorpius, and lowered his head down disconcertingly. “I know you think ill of me now.”

“Never, Albus.” Scorpius vowed. “I still look at you the same. Nothing’s changed. I just…” He let out a distressed sigh. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

Albus’s glowing green eyes narrowed to the floor. “I was ashamed.” He revealed, slipping the lavender book out of Scorpius’s grip and placing it on top of the wooden shelf instead. Licking his lips, his rich green gaze found Scorpius’s stone silvered glimpse. “And I know you, Scorp.” He said inaudibly. “I know how you are. I knew if I told you this, you would somehow blame yourself.”

“Albus…”

“Scorp, this isn’t your fault. Okay? You’ve helped me all the time. You always help me. But this…this is bad. This is my fault. I did this to myself knowingly. I-I think I am doomed. What if I am not good after all? What if I’m bad?” 

“Don’t say that, Albus!” Scorpius squeaked, wheeling towards Albus and grasping his face in his steady hands. “You’re not bad. You’re my Patronus, remember?”

“Yeah but…” Albus stirred away from him, and checked behind him, to make sure no one was there. He dropped his voice. “What if I am the Dementors instead?” 

Scorpius shook his head. “I don’t believe you. You couldn’t possibly bring darkness. You’re good, Albus and if I have to spend the rest of my life convincing you of that, then sign me up, because it will take a lifetime to explain all of the reasons why you’re good.” In that instant, something changed in the way Albus was regarding him. It was a look of longing. It was as if Albus were peering at something he had always yearned for, and was only now given permission to cease it. Scorpius suddenly imagined Scorpius and Albus, elegant grooms in their mid-twenties, walking side-by-side down the aisle, both dressed in striking suits on their glorious wedding day. He could see them purchasing a cozy mansion in the outskirts of Malfoy’s Manor. Or would they live somewhere close to Godric’s Hallow? Personally, he always fancied the countryside, where Rose lived with her family at the Burrow. Scorpius could see it all. A lifetime with Albus. Wait. No. What was he thinking? And why was he thinking this? He didn’t know where these undisclosed desires were coming from. But nevertheless, he forced himself to shake it off—to continue building Albus up. “You’re the strongest, bravest person I know. And—I’m starting to think that maybe….maybe…I…I…I want you! I want you, Albus. I want you, Albus Severus Potter. I want to be with you, Albus. Always.” The words fell out in slow motion. Scorpius could see himself reaching for the fallen words, and hoping he could stuff them back into his system and it keep all these words, all these rushing feelings locked inside where they belonged. Where they have been dwelling dangerously for years. Oh no. What he did he do? What did he say? He shouldn’t have said that. Why on earth did he say that? He wanted to apologize. To say he didn’t mean it. But, he would only be lying to himself and to Albus. 

Albus gingerly moved the sun-stained curls out of Scorpius’s divine eyes, who in that moment, froze at his caress. “I wouldn’t mind having you by my side for the rest of my life, either.” Albus said quietly, keeping his hand on the back of Scorpius’s neck as he spoke. Albus did not want to step away from Scorpius. In fact, he hungered to heave closer to Scorpius until there was absolutely no space dangling over them. He wanted to feel him. Touch him. To bury his face with his. To sleep next to him for the rest of his life. Even after death. 

Scorpius was paralyzed in an uncharted feeling of passion. He felt like he could not muster a word. All he was concentrating on was the electrifying feeling of Albus’s soft hands tracing up and down his neck, a beautiful serenade. “Me neither.” Scorpius breathed out, engulfing this moment of allure. The lights in the Restricted Section were quite dim; however, it wasn’t very difficult to make out Albus’s attractive attributes. Scorpius could have sworn he had Albus’s handsome demeanor memorized from the tips of his toes to the birthmark that was etched on Albus’s left ear. Scorpius’s earnest eyes interlocked to Albus’s moist lips to the muddled twine of bangs that made up his midnight hair to his fuzzy eyebrows and once more to the captivating gaze of his magnificent bright green eyes. 

Scorpius’s irises were blooming with unexplored yen. “Imagine all of the adventures we’d have?” He smirked whimsically, edging closer, his lips inches away from Albus’s. He wanted this. He wanted this moment more than anything. 

“Not to mention all the trouble.” Albus agreed meaningfully, his alluring face contorting to a gaze of secret wonder and lust. Albus took his long index finger and delicately sketched the charming shape of Scorpius’s flushed lips. Albus pressed Scorpius against the luminous bookshelf, their gleaming faces hot with passion.

Without thinking, without realizing what he was doing, Albus Potter leaned in and kissed Scorpius Malfoy.


	8. Albus’s Amour

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> TRIGGER WARNING: MENTIONS OF SELF-INFLICTION/CUTTING  
> TRIGGER WARNING: HOMOPHOBIA/DEROGATORY TERMS

Albus kept his strikingly green eyes shut. He kissed Scorpius long and slow, savouring the moment and the feel of his soft skin against his ravening lips, determined to keep this moment and this sentiment instilled in the back of his mind and in the gushing centre of his heart forevermore. Scorpius’s silk lips tasted like rich peppermint. It was everything Albus never knew he needed. Each second, each exhilarating second, all he yearned for was more. He needed more of Scorpius. He needed to relish, memorize and feel every inch of Scorpius Malfoy. Even though this was their first kiss, he would do anything to make sure it wasn’t their last. He wanted Scorpius more than anything. Albus combed his long fingers through the sleek blonde vines of Scorpius’s deliciously apple scented hair as he continued pressing his warm lips with his. Scorpius’s broiling breath was a sugary aroma of tantalizing mint he found himself thirsting each arising second. Scorpius murmured something inaudible and placed his hands on Albus’s cheeks, holding him tight, and then stretched his slithering arms around the middle of Albus’s spine like a fastened buckle, refusing to let go. It felt…right. In that moment, every blurred memory he shared with Scorpius was suddenly becoming clear. It all made sense. He felt good. Complete. Free. Happy. 

Scorpius broke apart from Albus, beaming. “Okay. Hello. Um. Have we kissed before?” He crooned, his breath hot on Albus’s face which was blazing and pink as ever. “Do we kiss?” 

Albus’s warm face stretched into a fierce grin of desire, leaning towards Scorpius, dying to absorb those lips again. “We can if you want to.” He softly whispered.

“I want to.” Scorpius consented, leaning forward a little too excitedly. 

BAM!

Their foreheads bumped into each other; both boys jerked back at once, equally startled. Albus, however, appeared far more entertained by this dilemma than Scorpius for he roared with delight as he grasped onto his face; he was laughing so hard that tears began spilling out of his enriching eyes.

“I’m sorry!” Scorpius squeaked, although he couldn’t help but scuffle out a nervous chuckle, patting his forehead. Only I could mess things up. Scorpius shook his head to himself. What an idiot. I killed the moment, didn’t I? Scorpius gathered Albus’s muscular arms, and hurled him to his pounding chest; their curved silhouettes dawning onto each other like smoke trickling in the slumbering sky. There was a generous gust of light puffing from the flickering lamp on the stained sill, enough for both boys to gleam into each other’s galvanised faces. Scorpius glanced up at him, rubbing his injured forehead for him. Albus giggled and took his thumb and caressed Scorpius’s forehead as well. Why was he laughing? Scorpius wondered. Didn’t I ruin everything? Scorpius didn’t mean to knock him with his own head, for goodness sake. He just wanted to snog him the way Albus was kissing him. He wanted it to be perfect—not like this; flawed and awkward. He bowed his face down embarrassingly, his shoulders dropping. “I-I guess I’m not very good at this, am I?” He stammered. 

Albus grinned at him, pressing his fingers on Scorpius’s tense face gently moving his sharp chin up so he would look at him. “A little too enthusiastic, I’d say.” He simpered with a frolicsome wink. “I like it.” Albus slowly drew forward and stamped a kiss on Scorpius’s neck, breathing hard. He could hear the irregular thumping of Scorpius’s heart each time Albus pressed his lips on his pale collarbone. Scorpius closed his eyes at Albus’s kisses of affection that planted on his skin like seeds of bliss and security. He held Albus’s bent head in his pale hands, his fingers pushing into the dark ropes of Albus’s thick hair. Scorpius couldn’t muster out any air. Albus’s lips on his neck was his weakness. Breathing was a difficult task, but in the best way possible. Scorpius wiggled his body towards Albus, desiring the fuelling flavour of his cinnamon lips with his. Scorpius took a gallant step forward, nearly tripping over his own cloak. These ruddy robes keep getting in the way. Scorpius reflected and tore off his soaring Slytherin robes to the carpet floor and was left with his fine black dress pants and long-sleeved ivory shirt. His green and silver Slytherin tie flung around at each step as he continued circling around Albus; enticement hanging over the atmosphere. Albus beamed at his attractive friend and copied his movements. He too, ripped off his dusky robes, and heaved closer to Scorpius, who was greeted by the comforting wind of cologne that stained Albus’s jade tie. Scorpius blinked, engulfing Albus’s compelling scent. Albus brought his arms to Scorpius’s neck, and within seconds, Scorpius stumbled back at once, appearing completely frightened. He wore an ill grimace that precipitously clouded his dismal face.

“What happened?” Albus murmured, opening his eyes. 

Scorpius did not muster a word, and simply stared at Albus’s arms, which—Albus now realized were exposed. His frosted collared long sleeves were folded up to his bony elbows; there were fresh red twigs drawn on his scratched forearms. 

“Scorp,” Albus gasped in consternation, trying to coil his snowy sleeves back down, “Don’t… don’t look at that right now. Look at me.”

It was as if Scorpius did not hear anything Albus had just said for his eyes were stuck on Albus’s cuts. Scorpius protectively clasped onto Albus’s wounded arms, studying them prudently like a curious toddler. He specked his smooth fingers up and down Albus’s inflamed slashes, who whimpered at his touch, trying to draw back. Scorpius glanced up at him; his eyes were misty. “Does that hurt?”

Albus managed out a nod. “The pressure on it stings.” He admitted. 

“I’m sorry.” Scorpius whispered and let go of his damaged wrists. “How can I—? What can I do?”

“Kiss me.” Albus said softly, raising his hirsute eyebrows and loosened his silver and greenish tie with a smirk. 

“Albus…” Scorpius droned, still grasping onto his maimed arms; his eyes now rushing to the ground, trying to catch a quick glimpse of everything except his gorgeous friend. His eyes wondered to the violet, whiskered rug, to the scorching greased lamp and then to the gigantic, slanted shelves. He of course, did want to kiss Albus, more than anything—especially because Albus’s disentangled tie was now hanging on him like a pathetically overgrown bandana. Albus Potter was annoyingly cute. But now certainly wasn’t the time to snog. They should talk about Albus’s cutting. It was important to discuss. Scorpius bravely lifted his gaze, glimpsing into those enriching green irises. He could tell Albus was doing his very best to avoid the subject with that flirty face of his but Scorpius couldn’t possibly turn away from his cuts. He couldn’t pretend they didn’t exist. That they were something that could so easily be ignored. Truth be told, a part of Scorpius wanted to use Obliviate and turn the wand on himself. He hated seeing those cuts. They were a haunting reminder of Albus’s loneliness and pain. But…at the same time, it was important…it was necessary that Scorpius knew about his cutting. That way, Albus was no longer drowning on his own. He now had an anchor to latch onto when the water levels of agony were dangerously high. Scorpius was here now and he would do whatever he could to erase his suffering. To help Albus through all of this. It was a good thing that Scorpius knew about Albus’s cutting because now, rather than turning to that awful Quill for comfort, for that fleeting relief of his inner turmoil, Albus could now choose to lean on Scorpius. At least, that is what Scorpius hoped. He hoped now, things would change for the better. Perhaps now…things will be different. They have to be. Scorpius licked his lips, pondering how to string his sentences in a way that made sense. He certainly was not going to weep again. He just had to tell Albus how he felt about his cuts. He needed Albus to hear him out. He never wanted Albus to hurt himself again. “You’re my best friend,” Scorpius murmured, “and, erm, well, I….I love…love…j-just—please…promise me. Promise me that you won’t ever—just don’t—” Scorpius drew in an uneven breath, offering him a sad smile. “Please don’t ever hurt yourself…ever again. I care about you like no one else. I want you alive, Albus. I want you here…with me. Forever. Don’t hurt yourself. Please Albus.”

“I-I’ll try.” Albus sputtered. “I will try my best, Scorp.” He said seriously, still trying to whirl down his sleeves, to blanket the irreversible mess he made. 

“No, no.” Scorpius insisted, touching his arms, reeling his sleeves back up with such fragility. Albus peered down at his irate cuts, unsure what to do. He froze as he watched Scorpius stroke his wrists; his fingers cool as ice. “You don’t need to hide that from me.” He murmured. “Don’t ever…try to hide that from me. If you ever get that urge,” Scorpius continued, his eyes narrowing to Albus’s pale face, who looked like he had just encountered the Bloody Baron, and then to his cuts, “If you ever get that awful urge to…to hurt yourself…come to me first, okay? We…we can talk things through. Perhaps figure out a plan? Brainstorm other alternatives to cutting?” Tapping his chin attentively, he quickly added, “Gather some books that can help? I reckon there ought to be loads of books out there to help witches and wizards like yourself. I’ll research about it later tonight and if I find any, I’ll simply put them on hold.” He scrunched his dirty blonde eyebrows together in marvel. “Of course, if Ms. Lovegood asks, I’ll inform her that it is purely for the purpose of research. It’s an assignment. Fully fictional. No hints of non-fiction at all. No truth in sight. Not one.” 

“Of course, Scorp. Thank you.” Albus smiled meaningfully at him. What an adorable dork, I’m stuck with. He pondered, hovering close to Scorpius. “I’d like that.” He raised his eyebrows. “Why do you care about me so much, anyway?” He teased. 

Scorpius grinned at him, crushing him into a thunderous hug before getting on his tippy toes and pecking a long, indulging kiss on his cheek, clinging onto his neck. “I love you.” He whispered in his ear. “That’s why.” He drew away from his earlobe, and instead, cupped his face with his, their interlocked fingers nesting neatly against one another, like star-crossed soulmates. “I love you. I love you. Merlin’s Beard, I love you! I…I don’t love pie. I mean I do! But what I had wanted to say…w-what I had been trying to say is…I love you. I am in love with you, Albus Severus Potter. I don’t know exactly when these feelings started but all I know is that I don’t want them to end. There. I said it. Finally. I. Love. You.”

Albus turned redder than before at such beautiful words and bit his lip, trying to lock out his swimming emotions. But he couldn’t. What was the point of hiding anymore? What was the use; denying his feelings for Scorpius? There they were, kissing and confessing in the Restricted Section. The truth was uttered by Scorpius with those three heart-stopping, life-changing words. Albus knew, in his heart, in his soul and in every breath he took, he felt the exact same way. 

“I love you, too, Scorpius.” Albus grinned. “The truth is—I’ve been thinking…I’ve been feeling… I…I—” He cut himself out. It was hard to talk while Scorpius was touching his face. His fingers traced miniature circles on the back of his neck, and then to his lush cheekbones. It put a spell on him. But, he didn’t want Scorpius to stop, either. Albus shut his eyes and then reopened them, trying to muster up the courage to admit what he had been feeling all along. “I’ve always loved you.” He said simply. “It started on the Hogwarts Express. When we first met. As soon as I saw you…” Albus’s ears turned bright crimson. “I remember how I forgot to breathe let alone speak. I remember being a blithering fool because I was so taken aback by you. And… after that…after that, we just clicked. We’ve been through hell and back together. We’ve gotten a hold of a Time-Turner and fought Delphi off. We’ve tried and failed miserably to defeat our bullies. Spent long summer nights at Malfoy’s Manor, memorizing spells. Experimented with potions that we would never, ever, mention to our Dads. Snuck Butterbeers into our Dormitories. Played with that bloody Spirit Board! Gotten ourselves into mad mayhem.” Scorpius and Albus broke into laughter at the mention of the Ouija board. They both remembered what a scary and rather eventful night that was. Of course, in the moment, that night was frightful, but looking back at it now, it was awfully ridiculous. Both boys clearly weren’t thinking right. Albus bit his lip, remembering it all; he smiled widely. “I know whatever I face, whatever I go through in my life, there’s no one else I would rather share that with. We…we’re right for each other. I love you, Scorp. I will always love you.” 

It wasn’t hard to admit his feelings. He didn’t know what James had gone on about. James had always told Albus to never confess your feelings to someone unless you meant it. Such words cannot be taken back. Once you say it, you leave an imprint on that person. James had said. But…Albus meant it. He meant it, felt it and lived it. He loved Scorpius Hyperion Malfoy. There was absolutely no doubt in his mind that hissed otherwise. There’s no one else he could see himself loving for the rest of his life. This all felt like a dream for it was too good to be reality. To make sure Albus wasn’t stuck in a wild fantasy, he pressed his lips on Scorpius’s neck, devouring the taste of his creamy skin. Yes. This is definitely real. 

“I—I think I’m gay.” Scorpius blurted out, labouring for air. 

Albus merely grinned at Scorpius and sealed a kiss on the other side of his collarbone, longer this time. 

“Yes!” Scorpius chirped, his face burning with sensation. “D-d-definitely gay.” 

“Really?” He teased with a frisky smile. He hovered towards him and massaged the light locks of his golden hair. “I was just beginning to think that maybe you’re straight.”

Scorpius hid a smile. “Right. Um. Well. I know I am gay. I’m here, sneaking around, kissing you…enjoying you very much. But I just…I just needed to say it aloud. I’m gay. Yes. There it is. I am gay. I am gay. I am gay for the love of Dumbledore!”

“I’m pretty sure he was gay, too.” Albus stated with a roar of laughter. 

“Yes I have heard he was in love with Gellert Grindlewald—”

Albus’s hands froze in the depths of Scorpius’s hair. “GRINDLEWALD!” He cried in disbelief. “ONE OF THE MOST DANGEROUS DARK WIZARDS OF ALL TIME?”

“That would be the one.” Scorpius said seriously. “He fancied Grindlewald when they were both sixteen, in the summer of 1899. That’s when they met. A little after Grindlewald was expelled from Durmstrang for conducting twisted experiences on his fellow students. Dumbledore fancied him for years until Grindelwald became a dark, murderous muggle-hating evil lunatic, I suspect.”

Albus shook his head. “I don’t understand. I mean, I’ve read loads of books on the man I was named after. Have his biographies memorized word to word.” Albus looked hurt. “None mentioned he was in love with Grindlewald. Now that I’m thinking about, they never mention his sexuality either.”

“Of course they don’t.” Scorpius said sadly. “No one ever likes talking about people like us. We’re a taboo, Albus. This part of us…” He murmured, winding their pale fingers together, “…is locked away by society.” He looked like he wanted to shrivel in a corner and never get up. He glanced at Albus again, and that feeling of sorrow instantly dissolved. “We just have to make sure we change that for the better. No more witches and wizards struggling with who they are. We need others to know that we cannot be shoved into hiding anymore. We can’t be ashamed. We have to say it. Loud and clear. I am here and I am queer.”

“Okay you enjoyed that last bit a little too much.”

Scorpius blushed. “I did very much, yes.” He admitted with a little laugh. “It is quite interesting that you were named after Dumbledore. Pretty cool, isn’t it? Now I know of two Albuses who are gay.” Scorpius’s hands went still. The pair were still holding onto each other, their foreheads pressed into each other, like lost puzzles pieces that finally fit. “I do wonder what other witches and wizards are like us. Perhaps I could make an anonymous survey and have Elfie deliver it to everyone? Maybe send it by an owl—?”

“Sorry,” Albus interrupted, “who’s Elfie?”

“My House Elf!” 

Albus tried not to laugh. “You have a House Elf named Elfie.”

“I was two when I named her,” said Scorpius sensitively. “I’m not changing it now.”

“I’ve known you for five years and not once have you ever mentioned her.” Albus pulled his eyebrows together. “Hang on…how come I never see her whenever I go to the Manor?”

“I erm, ask her to hide.” Scorpius muttered.

“What?” Albus laughed, clearly amused. “Why?”

“Well, I wasn’t sure if you would judge me. I didn’t want you to think ‘Blimey another spoiled Malfoy who enslaves House Elves.’ It’s not like that. I don’t demand Elfie around. Neither does my Dad, if that’s what you were thinking. We’re not like that. I just, well, talk to her. She’s my friend. She was quite helpful after Mum died. I didn’t think telling you would be the best idea because I am fully aware of how your Aunt Hermione feels about House Elves. I was afraid if I told you about Elfie, you wouldn’t want to be friends anymore. You’d run to tell your Aunt Hermione or worse, your Dad who hates my guts—”

“He doesn’t hate you.” Albus said defensively. 

Scorpius had a sour look on his face. “I’m the Dark Cloud, remember? I’m the son of your Dad’s arch enemy. And my dad…well, he used to be a Death Eater…not because he wanted to, but because Voldemort had ordered him to, but everyone likes to leave that part out. Your Dad takes one look at me and assumes the worst. He probably still secretly believes I’m Voldemort’s Son. Just like everyone else.”

“Hey. Hey.” Albus solaced, moving his arms on Scorpius’s tense shoulders, pecking a kiss on his forehead. “Where’s all this coming from, Scorp? He doesn’t hate you, alright? And he doesn’t think any of that. No one in my family does. Were our dads childhood enemies? Of course. But they’re over it. My Dad doesn’t look at you and see the face of Draco Malfoy. He looks at you and sees Scorpius Malfoy. The boy who stole my heart.” Albus blushed and bobbed his head down bashfully. “Well, he doesn’t know about me!” He said quickly. “He doesn’t know about, erm us. But he knows you mean the world to me. You’re always welcomed at the Potters.” 

“How come I’m never invited to your house then?” Scorpius pouted.

“James always makes jokes about you and I.” Albus’s face turned pink. “He makes, rather risqué comments about us. Mum and Dad always tell him to knock it off but he never listens. I just don’t want you hearing all of that.”

To his surprise, Scorpius giggled. “He knows about us?”

“Apparently he always had.” Albus shrugged, leaning in and stealing a quick kiss from Scorpius, who returned the kiss with much enthusiasm. “But hey!” Albus muttered, drawing back a bit. “You’re always wanted at Godric’s Hollow. Just ignore my brother. He means well, I reckon. My guess is his ruddy comments are his way of trying to kick me out of the closet.”

“Oh. Alright.” Scorpius agreed. “What kinds of stuff does he say?”

“Oh no.” Albus shook his head, grinning. “You don’t need to know.”

“Come on, Albus.” Scorpius persisted with a smirk. “At least let me hear one.”

“James is barking.” Albus rolled his eyes. “Trust me. I’m only doing you a favour by refusing to repeat his foul remarks.” 

“Fine. I’ll have to wait until I go to your house, then.” Scorpius said, biting his lip. “No one of my family knows about me. Actually. No. I take that back. Elfie always knew how I felt about you. I kept lying to her, saying she’s gotten it all wrong. She’ll be so happy when she finds out about us.” Scorpius smiled. “And. Well. I couldn’t risk losing her if you ever found out about her. I’ve heard stories about Dobby and I don’t want Elfie given a sock. She’s family.”

“I understand Scorp.” Albus smiled, lacing his hands on his shoulders. “I’m not judging you at all for having a House Elf. In fact, I would love to meet her. Tell her what a wonderful wizard you are.”

Scorpius’s face broke into a smile. “Really? Perhaps on Christmas Break?” 

“Definitely.” Albus agreed.

“But,” Scorpius persisted, refusing to let go of such a great idea, “I really do want to conduct a survey and record my statistics on witches and wizards who might be like us. Imagine it, Albus! Imagine how many other people in Hogwarts are like us and are just doing what we’re doing…hiding. Perhaps I could formulate a theory and write a research paper on it. Hmm but I would need some assistance. I’ve heard you could sometimes talk to portraits. Apparently, the portraits of Albus Dumbledore and Severus Snape are still in Hogwarts but their whereabouts are unknown, which is a shame, really, because I would have liked to hear their insights on this subject. One, by Dumbledore, who is well, gay like us, and one by Severus Snape, who I’d like to think is an ally. They must have a lot to say on this subject. Well, not only on the subject but on us as well! I am curious to know what they think of us. Do they like us? Think we’re weird? Do we share similar or opposing characteristics? It’s quite interesting. You were named after them, after all. Your Dad must have done that for a reason.”

“Only I’m nothing like them.” Albus rolled his eyes, feeling himself shrink into nothingness. He wanted to curse the world as he thought about his famous, well-liked Dad who named him after two legends. Albus could never live up to such high expectations. Albus was anything but kind was he spoke. There was evident longing and animosity in his hostile tone. “Severus Snape was the bravest man he ever knew. I know. I know it all. And Albus Dumbledore, well, you’ve heard all about him. He was amazing. He was—”

“The gayest man your Dad ever knew.” Scorpius smiled. 

“You came up with that pretty fast.” Albus looked mildly impressed. “Were you waiting for the perfect moment to use it?”

“Years, really.” Scorpius admitted, waiting for him to break into a smile. But Albus looked deeply concerned. He always grew defiant and crossed whenever Scorpius brought up his Dad or even the great wizards he was named after. He clearly was unhappy. “Come on, Albus. Don’t put on your moping face. Don’t for a second, question your greatness. Snape and Dumbledore were brilliant wizards, but so are you. I reckon, if they were alive, they’d be proud of you, too. You’ve helped defeated Voldemort’s daughter, for the love of Dumbledore! You really shouldn’t doubt yourself, Albus. I remember, when I used the Time-Turner, Snape told me to tell you that he was proud…he was proud that you carried his name.”

Albus’s face softened. He felt a glowing delight firing at his chest. His voice came out small. “Really?” 

“Yeah.” Scorpius nodded. “I should have told you sooner, but yes, he is proud. Don’t think you’re cursed, Albus Potter. You’re not cursed. You’re blessed. To be named after such brilliant wizards…it’s an honour, and you resemble them quite a lot. You’re remarkably gay and never flinch at the sight of danger. The bravery you hold on an every day basis is unwavering, unique and truly awe-sticking. You face tremendous mistreatment at Hogwarts, but still find the courage in yourself to keep going. To fend the relentless bullies off. But more to that, you’ve got a gentle heart, are a wee bit cunning, are adorably complicated and…you…you know what love is. You value love. You put that above everything else. Rather much like Severus Snape and Albus Dumbledore. You’re more alike to them than you let on.”

“Says you.”

“And shouldn’t that count, more than anything?” 

Albus sighed in defeat, his frown shifting into a nervous beam. “Why are you always right, Scorp?”

“There are several reasons for that,” Scorpius began. “I could list them all, but mind you, that could take centuries.”

“That would mean I’d have to be standing here with you for centuries.” Albus whispered, his hands slipping to his collarbone, undoing Scorpius’s shiny tie. “The horror.” 

Scorpius lifted his finger up. “Number one…the library is my second best friend. I’m always there so obviously, I am going to mop up essential information like sponge. That is a core reason to my intelligence and secondly, I—”

“Scorp?”

“Yeah?”

“Shut up so I can kiss you.”

“Now that is something I’d like very much.”

They circled around each other, daring each other with their twinkled gazes to make a bold move; the Restricted Section was glowing with blossoming bliss. Scorpius now had the upper hand. He heaved Albus against the shelf who flung his arms back, almost like a surrender, hitting the bookshelf with a great thump. Books from the Restricted Section flew off the sill, raining down onto them like an unexpected storm. Scorpius threw his head back to examine the soaring paperbacks and hardcovers. He turned back to face Albus. Ignoring the thumping of his heart and the adrenaline rushing to his dizzy head, Scorpius moved his hand up Albus’s tender waist, who melted at his touch, their bodies warm with lust. He glanced up at Albus, both smiling pleasantly. One kiss certainly was not enough. He needed Albus’s lips covered with his. Overlapped with his body. He ached to feel Albus’s hands toying around him, discovering unmapped territories. Scorpius bordered close to Albus, slipping his wet lips with his, and in that moment, it was like the hands of time came to a rapid halt. Their connected lips danced around each other, fighting for each other’s honeyed taste, an irresistible rave of passion, both thirsting more and more each awakening moment. Albus didn’t want any of this to stop. It was real and beautiful and…perfect. Albus’s tongue slipped inside Scorpius’s mouth, greedy yet gentle. Scorpius let out a surprised moan, pulling Albus closer. Scorpius grabbed onto Albus’s face, playfully tracing his reddened cheeks, his fingers now getting lost in the unkempt twines of Albus’s cluttered midnight hair. Their heated bodies crept onto the lavish rug, their Slytherin ties and robes messily scattered on the floor. Albus grinned, keeping his eyelids shut, immersing his body on top of Scorpius’s in endless fervour, both feeding off of each other’s magnetic touch and tender lips. 

“Merlin’s Beard,” a cold voice said, from behind the shelves of the Restricted Section.

Instantly, Albus and Scorpius jumped apart, their faces inches away from each other, still holding onto each other, both unsure where the source of voice was coming from. Scorpius’s arms were slinked onto Albus’s neck, and Albus’s fingers were cradled by Scorpius’s curved waist. Slowly, Albus wiggled off of Scorpius before leaning in and kissing his button nose. He pulled out his wand from his scrunched Slytherin robes, directing his wand at the voice coming from behind the shelf. Scorpius also jumped to his feet, rather breathless, fishing out his wand as well, clasping his hand with Albus. Whatever it was…whoever it was, they would face it together. 

Yann Fredericks stalked over to the pair of them, carrying his ruby broomstick in one hand, and his raised wand with a dawning light pecking out of its tip, in the other. He was dressed in his red and gold Gryffindor Quidditch uniform, lifting his face in disgust at their linked hands. He was rubbing his injured head as if he had just been hit by a quaffle. He stared at the pair of them, looking as though he was going to throw up slugs. “I knew you two were a couple of faggots.” He said darkly.


	9. Chaos and Curses

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TRIGGER WARNING: MENTIONS OF SELF-INFLICTION/CUTTING  
> TRIGGER WARNING: HOMOPHOBIA

Yann walked over to them, clutching his wand with all his might, tight enough to make his pale knuckles transform into a blazing red pigment. There was evident abhorrence and antipathy in his undesirable tone. “You should have known, that this is what happens to filthy people like yourself.” But before Scorpius and Albus could understand what he said, he shined his wand at Albus’s mystified face. “Crucio!” He shrieked. 

“NO!” Scorpius bellowed, shoving Albus away—who slammed onto the carpet, watching in utter horror as Scorpius was hit with Yann’s curse. Scorpius collapsed to the floor and began writhing, screaming in agony as his limbs shook viciously against his will.

“SCORPIUS!” Albus shouted. He turned to Yann desperately, his eyes flashing with plea, guilt and anger all at once. “STOP IT! STOP! PLEASE! LEAVE HIM ALONE!”

But Yann only smirked as he advanced on Scorpius.

“DON’T!” Albus screamed, rushing to his feet, pushing Yann aside. He stuck his wand in the middle of Yann’s forehead; his jaw was clenched as badly as his fists and for a second, he saw his father’s infant face in Yann’s shocked expression and saw himself as Voldemort. This was how it was, wasn’t it? Voldemort had his wand aimed at Harry’s forehead while Harry sat there, having no idea what fate he would be scarred with. Albus quickly shook that memory away. His entire body was trembling. Focus on Scorpius. Look at Scorpius! He told himself. Each moment he felt angrier and angrier. This couldn’t be happening. Not again. Albus promised himself and Scorpius that he would never let anyone torture him again. Not after what happened with Voldemort’s daughter. “DON’T TOUCH HIM!” He yelled. 

“Right. That’s your job, now, isn’t it?” Yann sneered.

How dare he? How dare he say that to us? I am going to say a spell and I am going to mean it. Albus knew spellcasting wasn’t his strongest skill, but he believed in himself and had no doubt in his mind that he had what it took to conjure such a spell. “Flipendo!” Albus cried and Yann was thrusted backwards by an invisible hand, crashing into tilted shelves, thumping down paperbacks and heavy hardcovers. It worked! It worked! I did it! I finally did it! He liked the taste of power. The ability to disarm or hurt his opponent was a skill he could easily master. He already used a spell correctly and he loved that feeling! In no time, spells and hexes would come easy to him! He never thought he would be able to do it, but somehow, he managed! Albus ran up to Yann, his wand shaking. “Take the curse off of him! Or I’ll kill you.” He threatened through gritted teeth, forcing his wand into Yann’s throat. “DO YOU HEAR ME? LET HIM GO OR I WILL KILL YOU!” Do it. A high pitched voice screeched. Rip him apart. Make him suffer. Beg to be spared. End him, Albus. You know the spell. Kill him. Kill him. Kill him. Even though he wanted to, even though, at that point, he would knew in his gut that he would show no mercy; have no trouble ending him, killing was not an option, no matter what the fiddling voice at the back of his mind insisted. Albus thought quickly. “Do whatever you want with me.” He said in a panicked voice, pretending saying such a thing didn’t worry him the slightest. “Bloody me up if that’s what you want. Just don’t… touch him. Don’t lay a finger on him.” Albus begged. He knew he sounded weak but that didn’t matter right now. All that mattered is that he stopped that curse. All that mattered was Scorpius’s safety. “Please.” He beseeched, his voice breaking like glass. “Please…let him go.” 

Yann looked like he was having the time of his life. There Albus Potter was; at his mercy. Finally. “You know what? I’ll take you on that little offer.” He snickered. 

He turned to Scorpius and rolled his eyes, muttering the countercourse and Scorpius went still. He was no longer thrashing, but lay on the floor, panting weakly, hugging his body for comfort, trying his very best to stand up, but to his misfortune, he kept slipping back onto the cool ground. “No.” He heard Scorpius sniffle. “Delphi.”

At that horrifying moment, Albus wanted nothing more than to collapse by Scorpius’s side and hold him close. Comfort him. Assure him that Delphi was nowhere in sight. Kiss him on the lips. Make him feel okay again. 

But Yann loomed towards Albus; and Albus felt himself go cold, drowning in his very worst memories and thoughts. Yann Fredericks truly was his dementor. One that fed off his sorrow and wore his innermost agony like a prize. It was as if his pain brought light in his unfathomable dark eyes. Yann’s expression was terrifyingly obscure and unremorseful. He took a step towards Albus, staring him dead in the eye, boring his beady eyes with Albus’s. “Tell me this. How’s that Quill going? Is it working alright?” He winked at him, smiling as he stared at Albus’s lacerated wrists. 

“IT WAS YOU!” Scorpius yelled, scrambling to his feet, ignoring the burning pain he felt all over his aching body. “YOU’RE A MONSTER!” He charged over to Yann; with his wand clasped in his hand, a dangerous glare of deepest revulsion drawn in his wild owl-like eyes. He couldn’t think of spells fast enough so he tucked his wand away. Shoving him to the ground, Scorpius began punching Yann with his curled fists. “HOW DARE YOU DO THAT TO MY ALBUS?” He shrieked, aiming for his face. “HOW DARE YOU GIVE HIM SUCH AN EVIL ARTIFACT?” He punched him over and over again, until blood streaked his face, staining his finest Gryffindor robes. He thought about Albus’s cuts, the severity of the slits that made up his beautiful, soft skin. He couldn’t help it. He punched him again. Hard. Harder. The hardest. He didn’t care how much these punches actually hurt Yann. He deserved it. He didn’t care. He just couldn’t stand what he did to Albus. And how dare Yann…how dare he use the Cruciatus Curse on him? He felt like he was face-to-face with Delphi herself! And Albus—those cuts! That dead awful Quill! He punched Yann again. Again. As hard as he could. Again. Again and again. He didn’t know where all of this anger was coming from. “HOW DARE YOU SEND HIM SUCH A THING?” He thundered. “HOW DARE YOU?” 

“SCORPIUS STOP!” Albus bellowed. He caught hold of Scorpius’s flailing arms and pulled him off of Yann, stuffing him behind him. Yann, however, quickly rose to his feet, glancing at Scorpius with a new set of lens, appearing overly fascinated a he continued to gawk at him as if he were a newly recruited Death Eater who just learned how to use Avada Kedavra. 

His lips curled into a dangerous sneer, clearly amused by Scorpius’s wrath. He wiped the gushing blood off of his nose with his Quidditch uniform, dabbing his gashed up face. To Albus’s surprise, he was remarkably calm. “I see you get your violent side from your dear Grandfather.” Yann said lightly. “He’s quite abusive, isn’t he?”

Scorpius looked down at his trembling hands which were pink at the knuckles. He hid them inside his pockets and scurried close to Albus who threw a protective arm around him, although not even Albus’s touch could heal such words uttered by Yann. Was he right? Was Scorpius bad? What was wrong with him? He never hit anymore. Ever. What did he do? What would his Mom think of him if he knew? She’d hate him if she knew this other side to him. This terrible violent side he never knew existed. Was he his grandfather, after all? Or was he a good person? No, no. Yann had it correct. He was being like his Grandfather. But…but Yann really deserved it. No wait. Isn’t that something his Grandad would say? He didn’t want to be anything like him. Was he like him?

It was as if Albus had access to his deepest thoughts and began reading them aloud like an opened book. Truth be told, Albus wasn’t a Legilimens, but sometimes Scorpius wondered if he were. How else would he be able to read him like this? Then again, if Albus was a Legilimens, he would have told Scorpius. Albus clearly wasn’t one. Albus Potter simply knew Scorpius perhaps more than he knew himself. “Scorp is nothing like Lucius Malfoy.” Albus said firmly, slinking his arm around the curve of Scorpius’s waist as he spoke. “Scorpius is kind and good and sweet. He’s just mad because he found out that you gave me that Quill. He was defending me because he loves me. You know nothing about that, do you? Love.” His voice was heavy with emotion. “Scorp is nowhere close to Lucius Malfoy so stop planting ideas in his mind, alright? Just knock it off. He was only defending me, so will you give it a rest—? That’s what…that’s what boyfriends do.” Albus blushed pathetically at his own words. Scorpius jerked his head over to Albus who caught his glance and beamed. His face hardened at Yann who walked up to them with his wand clutched darkly in his hand. He was glaring at Scorpius with clear detest. “Don’t look at him.” Albus snapped. “Whatever you want…whatever you want to do…do it to me. Leave him out of this.”

“Very noble of you to shield your pathetic boyfriend from me.” Yann remarked, looking bored.

“No.” Scorpius snapped, turning to Albus. “When are you going to get it into your head? Whatever we go through from here on, we go through together.”

“You don’t get it,” Albus shook his head fiercely, “he’s dangerous.”

“For the love of Dumbledore, Albus!” Scorpius cried, slipping out of Albus’s arms. He threw his hands in the air as he spoke, clearly upset. He began pacing around the shadowed room. “I’ve just been tortured by him and you are saying that I don’t get how dangerous he is!”

But Albus stood in front of him once more, making sure he was far away from Yann’s treacherous glare as possible. “Don’t.” He warned. “You don’t know what extent he will go to to make you suffer.”

Scorpius squeezed his eyebrows together in marvel and stopped walking abruptly. The anger in him quickly dissolved to concern. “Wait…w-what are you talking about?”

“Just—hear me out when I say he’s bad.”

“Hang on…wait a second—? You…you… knew.” Scorpius gasped, bringing his palms to his face in disbelief. “You knew it was Yann who sent you the Quill! Even before he confessed!” He stepped out from behind Albus, gaping from Yann to Albus in hurt bewilderment. “You knew all along.” He breathed. 

“I erm, had a feeling.” Albus said quietly. “But that’s all it was!” He said quickly, cupping Scorpius’s hands with his. “A feeling. A second thought. A hunch. What if I was wrong and we had wrongly accused Yann of such a thing? That wouldn’t have ended well for either of us. Besides, I don’t want you getting hurt!”

“I don’t need your protection!” Scorpius shot back. He turned to Yann, his eyes shooting daggers of fury. “Just wait until the Headmaster hears what gifts you’ve been leaving people. You’ll be expelled. I’ll make sure that happens!”

“Not people.” Yann countered, spinning his Moontrimmer with his left hand. “Just Albus. It was supposed to be a laugh.” He said, as if that minor detail suddenly changed things. “He was only supposed to use it once. It was meant to be a scare tactic. How was I supposed to know he’d turn out to be a freak who hurts himself every day?” His lips curled into a dangerous sneer. “That was just a bonus for me!” 

“The only freak here is you.” Scorpius spat. 

“I’m not the one snogging another boy.” He said hotly, throwing his broomstick on the floor, terrifyingly angry. 

“You’re just jealous,” Scorpius retorted, “that I have love and all you have…all you have is hate.” 

“Blimey, that insult really got to me.” Yann said sarcastically. He stared at the pair venomously, cracking his fingers. “You really messed things up for me. And you both are going to bloody pay for what you did. I’m going to tell everyone what you are. That you’re gay.”

“Stop saying it like it’s a disease.” Albus snapped. “What did we do? You’re the one hexing and cursing us in the library!”

“No,” Yann argued, “you mean in the Restricted Section. Think Ms. Lovegood would be happy to know that you set her alarms off?”

“I don’t give a damn!” Albus said loudly. “You think you’re going to get us in trouble? Think again.” Albus laughed coldly. Scorpius glanced at Albus, smiling admirably at him. He liked this side of him. This take-charge-you’re-not-going-to-get-away-with-this side. This cunning and protective side of him. It was quite attractive and even more so now that they were…as Albus had put it…boyfriends. He liked that word. It fit them perfectly. It had a nice ring to it. Albus directed his wand at Yann threateningly. “Wait until I tell him what you’ve been up to. How vile you are.”

“Not to mention you used one of the Unforgivable Curses on us.” Scorpius chimed in; his fingers now locked with Albus’s. He kept pretending he didn’t notice Yann’s constant glance of repulsion at their intertwined hands. 

“And that Quill.” Albus said quietly. “I’ll—I’ll tell the Headmaster you sent it to me.”

Yann smirked dangerously. “If you tell the Headmaster about the Quill, you’ll have to tell him about your…” He moved his hazelnut eyes to Albus’s red forearms. “…extra circular activities.” 

Albus opened his mouth and closed it again. That was the last thing he wanted. He didn’t need anyone else to know of his cutting. Scorpius was the only one he trusted with this terrible secret. Yann in fact, was right. It was like a game of Gobstones. One daring flick of a finger and all the marbles would be shoved out of line. Once Yann was in control of this game, everything would come crashing down. If the headmaster knew, then his parents would know and Albus would do whatever he could to make sure no one else knew of the slashes on his skin. No secret was ever safe at Hogwarts. If one person knew, within an hour, everyone else would know. The news would spread like fire and would be marked in bold letters on the headline of the newest addition of the Daily Prophet. 

Albus had enough. They weren’t safe here, secluded in a darkened library with his tormentor. They had to get out of here. And fast. Albus grabbed Scorpius and proceeded to leave. They gathered their Slytherin robes and ties. Albus wasn’t even sure if he picked up his own robes or was carrying Scorpius’s instead. It didn’t matter, anyway. They just needed to leave. Albus threw the robes across his shoulder and stuffed his tie in his pocket while Scorpius quickly cloaked himself in the green neat robe, fiddling with the tie as he hung it above his neck like a loose, felted necklace. Scorpius took one look at Yann, rolled his eyes and darted out of the Restricted Section, and into the common area of the library, still holding onto Albus. 

But Yann spread his arms out. “Oh no.” He laughed haughty, blocking the darkened doors. “You fairies aren’t going anywhere. I’m not even close to being done with you. I know your secret. You can’t afford to leave now. Plus, you messed up my moment of glory. Rose left the game. The biggest Quidditch game of the season. She ditched the game and if things couldn’t get any worse, along comes James Potter who announces he is forfeiting. Long story short: Slytherin won.” 

“Who. Gives. A. Damn.” Albus repeated, his eyes like angry slits. “Get out of our way, Yann. Or I’ll—”

“What?” Yann challenged, adjusting his ponytail, tossing his red hair aside, raising his wand at him. “Kill me? Be my guest and try, blood-traitor. You’ve learned a lot from Delphi, I imagine, and Voldemort’s homo son.”

“STOP IT!” Albus screamed, shoving Yann aside. 

“Oh now you really shouldn’t have done that.” Yann threatened. “Impedimenta!” He cried. 

But Scorpius was faster, and ducked down, pulling Albus down with him. Sparks flew into the bookshelf, toppling them over; books blasted everywhere like explosive fireworks from Uncle Ron’s Joke Shop. 

“Stupefy!” Albus yelled, his wand aimed at Yann’s chest. He watched Yann fly backwards in amazement. He was getting better at spells, wasn’t he? “Did you see that?” Albus asked Scorpius with an excited grin. “Did you see that, Scorp?”

“Yes. Yes. It was great. It was lovely. It was heroic.” Scorpius grabbed Albus, pulling him away from the destruction. “Now let’s get out of here!” He urged and together, they bolted out of the library. “We have to keep running!” He panted, clinging onto Albus, taking a sharp turn near the still statues of the gleaming gargoyles and then exited through one of the portrait holes and soaring down to the next floor. “Whatever happens, don’t let go of my hand!”

“Do you suppose he’s far behind?” Albus questioned, both hiking up the ice cold spiral staircase now. He swung his head to the right, then left, and then behind him again. He had to make sure they weren’t being followed. What would they do now? Hide in the dormitories until dawn? Perhaps they should lay low in the Room of Requirement instead? No. That could be risky, too. What if Yann knew about the room as well? They would be history. Perhaps it’s safer if they went to the Slytherin Dormitories instead. No student outside of the Slytherin house obtained knowledge of the Slytherin password for it changed nightly. Yes. That was the plan. They would hide in the dungeons until the sun came out. From there, they would devise a strategy on what to do about the blazing turn of events. Do they report Yann? Do they not? Albus leapt into the darkened corridor. He turned to Scorpius, sounding unmistakably petrified. “What was he going on about James and Rose dropping out of the game?”

“Nevermind that!” Scorpius sighed incredulously. That was the least of their concern. They had several pressing issues and Scorpius was determined to tackle them in order of their severity. Figuring out why Yann was so upset about Quidditch easily ranked as the least significant. They had to deal with Delphi on the loose, invading Albus’s dreams, Albus’s cuts, the possibility of being outed and Yann’s relentless bullying. The list of their problems was endless, it seemed. Scorpius came to an abrupt stop when he reached the portrait of the two rather mouthy and scornful children who were chatting on an ancient rusted red seesaw. The crisp moon slung behind them like an oversized white balloon. The sparkling stars glittered in the background, twinkling angelically in the dark blanket that made up the midnight sky. 

“Password?” The child with fuzzy orange hair asked, smiling happily at the pair. He rolled off the teeter-totter and stared at them, taking out two lime-green tennis balls from his back pocket and began hurling in the air, attempting to juggle. He dropped the first ball, swearing loudly. 

Scorpius hesitated and muttered something with speed and regret, clearly trying to say this password as swiftly as possible. 

“I didn’t hear you, mate!” The other child squeaked, jumping off the seesaw as well. His hair was a greasy pigement of sausage-like brown and had ocean dark blue eyes. He ripped the tennis ball out of the other child’s hand and hurled it behind him, laughing as he watched the boy sigh with deep annoyance, running after the ball. Scorpius did not like this child at all. He seemed like a bully. Immediately, he thought of Yann and shivered. They both were arrogant and lived off the pain of their unfortunate victims. The boy with the oily brown hair sneered at Scorpius’s saddened gaze. “You’re a Malfoy.” He stated, exaggerating his tone when he said his surrname. “You’re supposed to say this Password with the greatest honour.

“Long Live Purebloods.” He mumbled emotionlessly. 

Scorpius turned to Albus with a solemn frown stapled on his ashen face. “Hate that password.” He whispered, cranking his head back at the darkened corridor. Yann was nowhere in sight. He was probably still passed out by Albus’s hex. He was getting angrier and angrier as he relived the horrors that unfolded just minutes ago. “Yann…he—he’s not g-going to get away with any of this! Did you hear what foul words he called us? He’s…he’s awful. And he gave you that Quill! I hate him, Al! I hate him!”

“Calm down, Scorp.” Albus said gingerly, tilting in and pressing his wet lips to Scorpius’s slender cheek. “Everything’ll be fine. I swear it.”

Scorpius closed his eyes at Albus’s kiss, disregarding the unsteady pulsing of his heart. “Okay. Hi. Um. I’m calm now. See? Calm.”

Albus smiled at him and quickly touched his hands bringing Scorpius’s battered palms to his steady chest. “I saw how bruised your knuckles are. Why don’t I brew you something to put on that?”

“Yes please. Thank you.”

“Of course. As soon as we’re in our dormitories, I’ll brew something in no time.” He stared at Scorpius apprehensively. “H-how…h-how are you feeling?”

“Fine.” Scorpius fibbed, answering a little too quickly. He looked up at Albus and sighed. He didn’t deserve this. He didn’t deserve to be fed with lies. He grasped hard onto Albus’s hands as he spoke dejectedly. “Actually. I’m not.”

Albus nodded at him. “Talk to me.”

“I got tortured…again…” Scorpius whispered.

“I’m sorry—”

“He should be sorry.” Scorpius interrupted. He was squeezing Albus’s fingers so hard, Albus was positive he would be able to rip them off. A part of Albus wanted to let go of Scorpius, but a part of him didn’t want to. Scorpius was evidentially upset. He needed to hold onto the only person who was keeping him up. Scorpius gazed into those green eyes. “Yann should apologize. Not you. This wasn’t your fault, Albus.” Scorpius offered him a shaky laugh. “Besides, I got to beat him up.”

“My hero.” Albus grinned. “Or should I say boyfriend?”

The light in his eyes regained. “Boyfriends?” Scorpius asked. 

“Always.” He said and etched a kiss on his other cheek. “We’re going to beat this.” He whispered. “Together.”

“Together.” He agreed and pulled him into a hug. “Albus…” Scorpius said softly, still holding onto him, his breath falling on Albus’s right ear. “I suspect the school is going to hear about us quite soon. You need to prepare yourself for that.”

“As long as I’m with you, I’ll be fine.” Albus yawned sleepily, kissing him on the cheek once more. They slowly broke apart, smiling shyly at each other; their hands interlocked. Now that they were boyfriends, Albus made it a habit to kiss Scorpius as much as possible, as if he were trying to make up for all the years they have lost. He couldn’t wait to taste those lips again. But now most definitely wasn’t the time to snog. Albus pushed down his sleeves. “I reckon everyone will be upset once they find out about us but I’ve got an idea—” He turned to look at the portrait of the playing children, who continued glaring at them. “Hang on,” he murmured, suddenly realizing that the portrait door had not budged. “Why aren’t you opening the door for us?”

It was as if Albus was invisible to them for they wouldn’t dare meet his eyes. “Say the Password with honour, Scorpius Malfoy.” The greasy-haired boy snapped, his beady eyes were heated slots of enormous detest. He was abnormally scary for a child of no less than twelve. Scorpius was so sure that he could pop out of that frame and pull him into the picture with him, trapping him into his dimension of hell and relentless irascibility. 

Scorpius shut his eyes, and Albus could not help but notice how appealingly lengthy his eyelashes were. Albus wanted to pull him into a long snog, but forced himself to stay put, to tear away from his gaze, and stared at the squeaking portrait instead. Scorpius opened his eyes again and let out a sigh of deep exasperation. Clearly, saying the password troubled him so. “Fine.” He mumbled angrily. “Long Live Purebloods!” He hollered, feeling as though his mouth would bleed at such vile words. 

“Ah that’s more like it.” The first child smirked, eating his orange hair that was knotted in a messy bun with several stingy strings of his hair hanging loosely in his bony face. He pushed the first boy out of the way, both swearing at each other. Albus was unsure if they were play fighting or were seriously upset with one another. The second boy with slippery brown hair gazed at Scorpius and Albus rather irately. He snapped his fingers and the door flew open at once.

The Slytherin common room was glowing in a hazy tinge of green as the cragged water splattered coarsely from the mysterious mouth of the Black Lake. The scabrous waves reflected dimly within the tainted verdurous window sills. The sallow, stumpy dungeon was scratched with uneven marble walls, some sections of the walls coughed out dead bricks which stuck out like uninvited weeds growing in odd corners. The vast, rounded ceiling hung greenish bubbling lamps coiled with bolted chains that swayed occasionally. Sitting in the very middle of the dungeon was an opened crackling fire which spat out flames of gushing green. There were abundant silver and green leather couches and cushioned chairs bedecked in nearly every inch of the dark common room. The winding walls was embellished with antique tapestries twisted with the cunning face of Salazar Slytherin along with knitted images of looped leering snakes. 

Typically, the Slytherin dormitory was quite soundless and empty. Majority of the Slytherins occupied The Three Broomsticks or the outside courtyard during late hours. Not many students hung around the dungeon after classes which is why the dormitory was commonly relatively quiet. The only sound you would hear were the rustling of papers and the tapping noise of ink against quills. Sometimes you’d hear the loud gossiping and giggling of students, the swish and flick of wands while students brushed up on their duelling skills, however, tonight, was entirely different. It was like the air changed in the dungeons for there seemed to be a party going on; a celebration of some sort. Slytherins were cloaked in their best green and silver attire, dancing with each other, laughing and screaming with delight while indulging in the burning taste of Firewhisky while others took comfort in the sweet sensation of Butterbeer. Thunderous throwback melodies from the Weird Sisters and The Hobgoblins were blasting in all corners of the dungeon. 

The common room was taken over by Slytherin students of fourth, fifth, sixth and seventh years, all drunk, giddy and loud as ever. Everyone had a rushed sketch of the serpent of Slytherin scrawled on their lustrous faces, clearly displaying their house pride. The captain of the Quidditch team, Felina Fiddlecorn was hoisting her Australian Flyabout broom in the air while slow-dancing with the glimmering Quidditch cup. She glanced at Scorpius’s and Albus’s dumbfounded expressions and grinned. Her smile was welcoming and kind, two emotions Scorpius and Albus were not used to seeing around the grounds of Hogwarts. She tossed her broomstick on the nearby sinking sofa, and forced the golden cup into the hands of Rita Rice—her best friend. Rita giggled, and stood on her tippy toes, placing the cup on a nearby shelf instead. Felina ran up to them, cupping two bottles of Butterbeers in her hand, offering it to them.

“MY HEROES!” She screamed, tumbling them into an unexpected hug which they returned purely out of politeness. “WE WON! WE WON THE CUP!” She exclaimed, still holding onto them with her free arm. “IT’S ALL BECAUSE OF YOU!”

“Erm…what did we do exactly?” Albus asked, taking the Butterbeer and bringing it to his lips. He squeezed his eyes shut at the syrup-like taste. 

“Well, Rose Weasley and James Potter left the game, so that knocked out two good players. I know.” She rolled her eyes while curling her dirty blonde braid with her forefinger. “As much as I hate admitting it, they are bloody brilliant. They said they had to leave the game due to some sort of family emergency—? Rumour has it, it’s because of you two. So clearly, you both made that up seeing as you’re both fine! And the rest is history! We defeated those ruddy lions. Since they left the game, Gryffindor didn’t stand a chance! We kicked their arse! WE WON!”

“What family emergency?” Scorpius asked her. But Felina clearly didn’t hear him and stumbled back into the middle of dungeon, pulling Rita Rice onto the dancefloor with her. “WAIT, WHAT FAMILY EMERGENCY?” Scorpius called after her. The Slytherin Dormitory was notoriously cold, however, during freezing nights such as this, the temperature seemed to drop significantly. A breath of fog slipped out of Scorpius’s mouth as he turned to Albus, speaking quietly. “I think Rose must have told James about…well…you-know-what.”

Albus looked down at his long sleeves, doing his very best to remain calm. Rose was a lot of things: bossy, rude, a show-off at times, but she was loyal to her loved ones. She would never betray him like that. Not even if someone used the Imperius Curse on her. “No.” Albus’s voice shook. “She couldn’t have. She wouldn’t have.” 

“I wouldn’t rule it out.” Scorpius murmured, clipping a finger in his mouth. “Look. I know you don’t want to believe she would, but you saw her reaction to your…” He lowered his voice. “…cuts. She lost it, Albus! And now, Felina is saying she left the game, and Rose Granger Weasley never ditches Quidditch.” He put his untouched Butterbeer on the table next to him. Scorpius linked his arm with Albus’s and escorted them near an empty space in the dungeon. They were leaning against the green bricked wall, arms crossed, facing each other. Scorpius could tell Albus was doing his very best trying to avoid staring at the plateful of sweets that were levitated on the table next to them. Albus sometimes indulged in sweets whenever he was awfully worked up about something. An awful habit he needed to get out. “Oh just grab a Chocolate Frog.” Scorpius encouraged. 

But Albus shook his head. “I’m okay.” He lied. 

Scorpius pulled out his wand. “Accio Chocolate Frog!” He summoned and two purple packages of chocolate flew into his hand. He smirked, dropping the frog into Albus’s hand who let out a toothy smile while Scorpius helped himself to the other. 

“Thanks.” He murmured, popping it whole into his mouth. 

“Of course.” Scorpius beamed. “Now. Um. What do we do about Rose and your brother? Should we leave? Go find them? I just— I-I…c-c-c can’t…can’t face Yann again.” He shuddered.

“I’m sorry he hurt you.” Albus said.

“Not your fault.” Scorpius reminded him hushly, staring down at the floor. He swallowed his Adam’s apple. He could feel it. The tears springing in his eyes. No. He wasn’t going to cry. Not again.

His head is bowed. Albus thought. That could only mean he’s trying not to look at me. Why would that be? Because he’s going to cry. No. I hate Yann. I hate what he did to him. “He’s an idiot!” Albus thundered, clenching his teeth. “Once I get my hands on him, I swear, I will—” Truth be told, he didn’t know what he would do. What can he do…that wouldn’t get him expelled? Why did he even care about being expelled? He needed a few minutes alone with Yann. It seemed…that awful voice in the back of his head was telling the truth after all. Maybe all he needed to do was kill. Albus shook that thought away. No. What was he thinking? What was he saying? Doing that would be the worst option imaginable. “He won’t get away with this. I swear, Scorp. What I want to know is how he managed on using an Unforgivable Curse without getting chucked in Azkaban.”

“Dunno.” Scorpius shrugged, slowly lifting his gaze at Albus, sending him a watery smile. “Seems like Dark Magic to me.” He drummed his fingers on his belly. “I knew I should have picked up a few books from the Restricted Section. I just—I got…” Rosy stained foams formed on his slender cheeks. “I got…distracted.” 

“What distracted you?” Albus grinned.

“A tall handsome and slightly insecure Slytherin.” Scorpius laughed. “You wouldn’t know him.”

“Doubt he’s all that.” Albus said. “My boyfriend’s better. He is a blonde awkward geek.”

Scorpius threw his head back, chuckling. “Sounds like a loser.”

“Nah.” Albus beamed. “In every way, he’s a winner.”

“Oh he is?”

“Yeah.”

“Prove it.” Scorpius smirked.

“Come closer and I will.” Albus responded as he bit his lip.

Scorpius giggled again and Albus seemed to relax. That’s all he wanted. To make him laugh. To see him happy. To make him forget about the horrors of the Cruciatus Curse. Scorpius’s face stretched into a large smile. “Since when have you become the sweet talker?” 

“James.” Albus admitted sheepishly. “Just been…you know…waiting...hoping…” He muttered, crushing his chocolate wrapper and throwing it onto the avocado coloured table. “Well…erm…anyway…” Albus continued, appearing quite serious, “we can’t just go back to the library to fetch books. He might be waiting for us.”

“We need to tell the headmaster.” Scorpius nodded. “I know you hate the idea, but we’ve got to do something.”

“And we will.” Albus said gently. “We just need to sort out our options. Who do we tell? Who do we leave in the dark? Whatever we do, we need to execute a safe plan. We need to stick together. We cannot be separated.” The anger he thought he let out of his system slowly crawled back into his body, claiming it as its home. “I can’t believe Yann! I can’t believe— what he bloody did to you! This is all because—”

“I’m weak.” Scorpius whispered.

“What? No! No you aren’t!” Albus cried, pushing his Butterbeer onto the crowded table, touching his face. However, as soon as the tips of his fingers reached Scorpius’s silk cheeks, Albus tore his hands off of him, remembering that they were in public. Wait. They didn’t discuss this yet. Do they openly display affection or do they remain in the closet? Were they waiting for Yann to out them? As much as Albus wanted to cradle Scorpius in his arms, an annoying voice demanded he let him be. To not get close to him. If he did, there would be an even bigger target on both of their backs. People would stare. Mutter rudimentary comments and soul-crushing slurs. Laugh at them. Hex them. Do something. Albus knew he had to do whatever he could to make their lives easier at Hogwarts. It wasn’t fair, but it was the way it was supposed to be…right? “I’m sorry.” Albus croaked, his green emerald eyes shifting to the dark silhouettes of the Slytherins dancing. “I want to hold you…but…I…can’t.”

“I know.” Scorpius smiled sadly, a tear dripping off his cheek. He scraped the water off his cheeks and shrugged. “B-b-b-but we shouldn’t care, r-right?” He stammered, luring closer to him. “I mean, that’s what I thought would happen. That’s what I’ve been trying to tell you. That we need to prepare ourselves for the possibility of being outed. You said you were fine with it so long as we’re together—”

“I am fine with it!” Albus said loudly and dropped his voice when he noticed the curious glances of those beside them. A group of Slytherins turned to them and rolled their eyes, turning back to their group of friends, all laughing loudly with one another while taking noisy slurps of their rim-filled Firewhiskies. “It’s just…” He shuffled his feet awkwardly in place. “…hard.”

“I’m not saying it’s easy, Albus. But…don’t we—? Don’t we owe it to ourselves to just…be? We’ve been hiding for years. Shouldn’t we just—? You know…be who we are—?”

Albus glanced around the dormitory uncomfortably. Would his fellow Slytherins care if they were gay? Would they be supportive or homophobic? Coming out to the entire student body was going to be a difficult task. Was he really ready for that? He glanced at Scorpius’s weeping face. No. he wasn’t going to be that boyfriend. The one who was too much of a coward to be who he was. He wanted more time with Scorpius. Snogging him, feeling him, touching him in the Restricted Section was beautiful. It was real and it was right. He wanted more of that. And he didn’t want to sneak around, either. If he continued hiding, that meant he was ashamed. Ashamed of himself. Ashamed of Scorpius. And Albus Potter was not ashamed of Scorpius Malfoy. 

He didn’t want to crawl back in the closet. When you’re in the closet for so long, it’s easy to find a noose. He didn’t want to go back in the closet. Ever. It was a reason he started cutting. He felt miserable. Alone. But he wasn’t alone anymore. Scorpius washed his pool of tears with his sleeves, turning away from Albus’s intense gaze. Scorpius clearly needed Albus at this very second and Albus didn’t want to retreat back. Not again. Not anymore. He didn’t want to hide anymore. He loved Scorpius. Loved him with all of his heart and he was proud to be with him. He was proud to be his, so why should he choose to lock his love for him away? He wanted to love Scorpius openly, too. He wanted to walk hand-in-hands in the corridors with him. He wanted to slow-dance with him during Hogwarts Balls. He wanted to cite embarrassingly cheesy couplets and poems to Scorpius on Valentine’s Day. He wanted to snog him in front of everyone during the New Years Eve countdown. He wanted all of that and he was certainly not going to be the one who stood in the way of their love. He loved him and he was proud to be his boyfriend. 

He walked up to Scorpius, placed both of his hands on his slender shoulders, leaned in and kissed him long and slow, ignoring the astonished gasps and the decreased volume of the faded music. He ran his fingers through the white blonde straws of his soft hair, getting a taste of his peppermint lips once again. Hang on. His lips tasted different now. Like chocolate. Nevertheless, his taste was delicious. His lips were soft and beautiful and intoxicating. Were people staring? One voice said. Who cares? Said another. He could hear Scorpius giggle shyly as their lips overlapped. What a dork. Albus smiled to himself, pulling Scorpius to his chest; their arms knotted with one another. It was the kind of kiss that lasted seconds but should have lasted minutes. Slowly, they broke apart, however, their arms were still holding onto each other like magnets. Scorpius’s hands were laced on Albus’s hips while Albus’s arms were around his neck, grinning at his flustered face. 

Albus turned behind them, noticing all eyes on him and Scorpius. Everyone looked shocked. Some smiled. Others dropped their drinks in surprise. Some turned away, pretending they didn’t see any of it. “Yeah!” Albus snapped, kissing Scorpius on the cheek for good measure, daring someone to challenge them. “We’re gay. So what?”

There was an unexpected round of applause at the Slytherin dormitory. Students of all ages were hoisting their bottles in the air in agreed harmony and acceptance. The clinking of glasses and the distinctive noise of clapping echoed within the illuminated green dungeon. 

“I knew it!” One student squeaked, turning to her friend merrily. She stuck out her hand in front of her face. “You owe me a Sickle!” 

Two boys from their seventh year crumpled them into a big hippogriff hug. “About time.” He smirked, pumping his Butterbeer in the air.

“Ugh gross.” Lilac Yaxley squeaked, her disgust and detest were quite present as it sounded like she was face to face with an untamed Blast-Ended Skrewt that was chasing after her for no apparent reason. She ruffled her whitish hair that had ribbons of pink lost in its untouched roots. She glared at the Scorpius and Albus whose arms were closely slinked around each other; their grip on each other nearly as strong as Devil’s Snare. 

“If you think they’re gross, get out of here!” Felina scolded, rushing over to the two boys, and stood in front of them as if she were their godly patronus that shielded away the hungry dementors. Although she was quite drunk, but still spoke more sense than Lilac did. “You’re not welcomed here, Yaxley. Unless your attitude changes.”

“Guess I’m never coming back here, then, am I? I have no intention on changing. In fact no. I will change…once they change.” Lilac smirked.

“It’s not a choice.” Scorpius said. His grey eyes swam over to Albus and gave him a smile. “Even if it was, I would still choose you. Over and over again.” 

“You're both disgusting.” Lilac said coldly, taking her empty bottle and hurling it towards the two boys. But Albus was quicker and blocked it with a flick of his wand, smiling as he watched the glass levitate in the air. He raised his eyebrows at Lilac; a silent stare that screamed “try me.” He gently cupped the bottle in his hand and placed it onto the floor, keeping his wand clenched in his hand while pulling Scorpius closer to him, feeling deeply relaxed the moment Scorpius buried his head in the arch of Albus’s sharp shoulder.

“You’re not welcomed here, Yaxley! Sleep outside the dormitory for all I care!” Rita chimed in, pulling out her wand while attempting to tame her static black hair. “Insult them again…throw something at them again and you’ll be quite sorry, indeed.

“Come on!” Another boy shouted stepping out from the darkness. He too, sided with Lilac. Scorpius recognized him at once and seemed to shrink a little at his presence; his grip onto Albus grew stronger, and Albus held onto Scorpius tighter, realizing his fear. His name was Marcus Macmillan. He had neat brown hair that was combed to his chin and was quite built around the arms. Although, not as built as Albus was, of course. Although Marcus was quite short, his presence was demanding. Scorpius would always have his family over for Secret Meetings down in the basement. Scorpius, however, was never allowed in those dusk rooms. He always wondered what went on in there, although he was always too afraid to ask his Dad. Not because his Dad scared him. Not because going into the old, dusky basement was terrifying. But because he felt a crisp of comfort in wondering what possibilities lay in the lingering vault of the Malfoy Manor. If he asked his Dad what went on on Friday nights at Malfoy’s Manor, his dad would either comfort him with a lie or kill him with the truth. He wasn’t sure he was ready for either of that. Sometimes, wondering was far better than knowing. 

“Come on. Wake up, everyone! Stop behaving like weak Hufflepuffs! Merlin’s Beard—look at them!” Marcus shouted, sounded annoyed. “They’re Slytherins. They’re tarnishing the house of Snakes. Ruining it for all of us. What would Salazar say, hmm?” He asked them as he gazed up at his photograph. “Think he’d be happy knowing this house contains homosexuals?”

“Enough, Macmillan!” Felina warned.

“Let me finish, darling.” He said shortly, whisking her away as if she were someone of no real importance to him.

“I’m not your darling!” She shot back. 

But Marcus carried on. “These…people…they are making a bad name for us. And look!” He shrieked nastily, pointing his wand at poor Scorpius. “He’s the son of Malfoy! They’re Purebloods. He’s an even bigger disgrace to us now. To our blood and to our house.

Albus directed his wand at him, thinking of which spells to cast on him. Spells that would inflict the most damage. He thought of spells Severus Snape had invented during his years at Hogwarts and smirked. He thought of one. A good one. “Want to say that again?”

Marcus exhaled deeply, shoving his rosewood wand away. No matter how furious he was, he knew better than to attack someone of his own house. He’d find another way to attack Albus. Scorpius too. Just not while they are in the dungeons. He respected the Slytherin house very much and knew the founder would be rather unhappy if he witnessed two classmates of the same house duelling one another. Marcus just had to orchestrate a plan or some sort. He looked up at Lilac, clearly annoyed that they were outnumbered. “Let’s just go.” 

“Fine.” She yelled, stomping out of the dormitory, cussing under her bile breath with Marcus following behind her, equally enraged. 

“I’m glad you two finally came out.” Rita said once they were out of sight. She flashed them a smile. “Slytherins stick together. If anyone gives you a hard time, we’ll defend you.” She grinned at the rest of the Slytherins. Some smiled in agreement, others looked nervous while some simply darted their gaze elsewhere. “Shall we all make an Unbreakable Vow? We all should swear to protect them!”

“Being drunk and making an Unbreakable Vow is probably not the wisest combination.” Rita murmured, stealing her drink and engulfing it down within seconds. “Let’s just continue this party.” She nodded at the pair of them, raising her empty glass. “Cheers, mates!”

Scorpius and Albus knew, in that moment, however brief those few seconds were…everything would be okay. Scorpius pecked a kiss on Albus’s cheek who laughed as he closed his eyes. He ran his fingers up his cheeks, their foreheads connecting as they stared longingly at one another. They felt at peace for the first time in a long time. They felt like they had room to breathe. They now had a fair chunk of the Slytherin house on their side and that is certainly more than what they could have asked. In this crowded, chaotic party, they managed to have allies by their side. In these few minutes, they managed to gather a fair number of people who didn’t care of their sexuality and vowed to protect them from homophobic people like Marcus, Lilac and Yann. And they couldn’t have been happier. 

Little did they know, that this moment would be a turning point.

Everything from here would go downhill.

“ALBUS SEVERUS POTTER!” Harry Potter screamed, bursting into the Slytherin dormitory with Draco Malfoy trailing behind them, his white light blonde hair pulled into a long braid, both breathless and furious as could be. “Rose told me what happened.” He said. “Reckon it’s time we’ve had a talk.”


	10. Scars of the Stars

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> TRIGGER WARNING: MENTIONS OF SELF-INFLICTION/CUTTING  
> TRIGGER WARNING: PHYSICAL ABUSE

Harry Potter was so profoundly enraged; he didn’t even realize Albus and Scorpius Malfoy jump away from each other at once, as if they had just been stunned with a hex of some sort. He didn’t even realize the utterly surprised, and perhaps even guilty expressions tattered on their scarlet faces. He didn’t comprehend any of this until he adjusted his foggy round-rimmed glasses. Did he and Draco interrupt something? Was the Slytherin Dormitory having a go at the game Exploding Snap? Or were they drinking far too many Firewhiskies? Did they barge in the minute Scorpius and Albus took a drink? Was that why they appeared quite delinquent at this very moment? Was that what teenagers did these days? He wasn’t so sure. At their age, Harry was upstairs cozied in the Gryffindor Dormitory with Ron and Hermione, sitting curled up, snuggled by the opened crackling fire, getting lost in the many parchments of homework they had to do. Not to mention keeping up with the exhaustive Quidditch tryouts and sneaking down to the secret Dumbledore’s Army meetings. Harry couldn’t help but beam to himself at such nostalgic thoughts. My, how have things changed. He lifted his gaze towards his son, tossing him a smile that was far too large, however, Albus only stared at him as if he were Nearly Headless Nick; someone that slightly scared him; someone he could easily see through. Harry’s divine green eyes flickered over to Albus’s drawn out sleeves which he kept fiddling with. They were already covering his forearms, however, Albus seemed to take a keen interest in hiding his entire fists in his sleeves. Scorpius noticed Albus’s movements and quickly remembered his own bruised knuckles and popped his hands inside his robes. However, the second his small hands filled the pockets of his robes, he immediately withdrew them at once, as if he had just been blasted with a breath of fire. Frowning, he gazed down, squinting inside the Slytherin uniform.

“Um. Albus?” Scorpius whispered.

“Not now, Scorp.” Albus hissed, but touched his hand anyway, a hushed apology, before moving his hands away from his. Scorpius nodded, understanding, and tethered his fingers within the deep sockets of his robes. Albus’s emerald eyes were still focused on his father’s. He was in trouble. He could feel it. His Dad said Rose told them something. That could only mean one thing: he knew. He knew about his cutting. Why else was his Dad examining his sleeves with much apprehension and perhaps even agony in the gleam of his stare? This was it. He knew. Albus was dead. He was dead. But before he died, he would make sure he had a chat with Rose, first. How dare she betray him like this? 

Harry was cloaked in a rather attractive, elongated bluish gown that was nearly as bright as the stag of his patronus. His long robe stretched down to the marbled floor, covering his large black boots which were hiding underneath his dress. At the rightside of his gorgeous gown read Head of Department of Magical Law Enforcement. His cloak was sealed with two large pockets stitched near his hips along with the name H. Potter scribbled intermittently just below his job title. His face was fenced with a husky beard that had a touch of fresh black specs beneath his barbed chin. Upon the off-centre of Harry's forehead, covered by his unruly black midnight clipped with a few of strings of silver, was a scar shaped like a lightning bolt. Many of the Slytherin’s eyes wondered up to his forehead; a common and rather tiring reaction many curious witches and wizard partook in. Harry also had a faint blemish on the back of his right hand which read I must not tell lies. Albus stared at it with dead. Scorpius too, because for some reason, their eyes wondered off to Harry’s clenched fist. Hang on. Something just clicked. Was his dad…was he a cutter too? Had he been a cutter during his days at Hogwarts? As long as he remembered, he always saw those faded words engraved on his father’s hand. All those times he saw it, he had never asked his Dad about that. Had he wondered what that was all about? Definitely. But he didn’t possess the courage to come out and ask him about it. The same reason why he had never asked his Aunt Hermione why she had the faded scar of the word Mudblood scrawled on her forearm: he wasn’t sure if he was capable of handling the truth. 

Harry staggered with words at this very second, noting all the flabbergasted and star-struck eyes of the Slytherins fastened with his. He arched one of his bristling eyebrows up, narrowing his rich green eyes at the two boys, feeling an odd gust of warmth wither his aging face. “Oh.” He said rather serenely, looking from Albus to Scorpius who were mystified and ashen as ever. “I didn’t realize—” He massaged the back of his messy jetblack hair the way his older son, James did. Why were they standing so close to each other? And were their hands colliding with one another? Harry had no idea what was going on, so he continued scanning around the crowded room, appearing like a doe caught in headlights. The familiar musical tunes that reminded him very much of the Yule Ball, coming from the bloodshot speakers was no longer playing at a delicate hum, but was now completely silent. Harry observed the disorganised dungeon, eyeing the blank bottles of Firewhisky and Butterbeers along with the plateful of scrumptious ascended snacks and sweets. He couldn’t help but notice the delicious set of Pumpkin Pastries. Harry was feeling awfully hungry. Surely, everyone would understand if he ate a few—? He just Apparated straight from work, without hesitation nor question. Hang on. What was he thinking? Of course not! This wasn’t the time. He had to turn to the real problem. His eyes met his son’s again. Harry licked his dry lips nervously, wishing everyone would mind their own business. “I…I didn’t realize I was…erm… was…erm…intruding—?”

Draco Malfoy wore an undecipherable and rather frigid expression etched in a thin frown on his pike, pointed face. His sleek-white blond hair was quickly receding due to age, stress and time. Although he typically tied his hair into a perfect ponytail, tonight, his hair was stylishly twisted into a single braid. Scorpius had never seen his Dad in a braid; nevertheless, the look suited him quite well. His glossy flaxen beard smothered the tips of his tense face connecting to his blonde greyish mustache. He had on a buttoned black cloak with a fresh white collar sticking out of his thin collarbone and was grasping onto his Hawthorn, unicorn hair wand with great pressure as if he were certain someone was going to try to snatch it out of his hand and claim it as their own. Draco elbowed Harry in the gut. No one was sure if this was accidental or intentional. He pushed his way forward to get a clearer glance at his son. Draco watched his son standing side-by-side with his best friend Albus Potter. Albus and Scorpius looked as though they had been caught using all three Unforgivable Curses by the culpable and sour look carved on their pale, petrified faces. He wanted to ask them what was going on. They had the same mortified gaze as they had that during that one summer night when Draco came downstairs to find the two boys red-faced and looking remorseful as ever. It was as if they had both robbed Gringotts and stored all the money down at the Manor. 

Scorpius turned to Albus and whispered something inaudible, but Albus only nodded at him as he continued to gaze at his father and then back at Draco himself. None of this made sense. Why was his son staring at Albus Potter like that? The way Scorpius gazed at Albus strangely reminded Draco of the way his late wife, Astoria would look at him. What was going on? Were they—? Did they—? 

“Ahem. Scorpius. Ahem.” Draco muttered as he moved his white blonde ponytail behind him, blinking several times, wondering which world he was stuck in at the very moment. “P-please. Erm. Come here. Now.” 

“W-w-what’s g-going on…?” Scorpius stuttered.

“Come here,” Draco repeated. 

“Yes.” Harry agreed stiffly, nodding at Draco. His emerald eyes shifted to the staircase. “Perhaps we should go talk somewhere private?” He gazed at his son wretchedly as he adjusted his cerulean robes. “Now, Albus.” 

“You too, Scorpius.” Draco nodded, holding out his left-hand for his son to take as if he were asking him to dance. His grey eyes wondered across the room. Nothing changed. The Slytherin Dormitory was exactly as he remembered from the twilight, twisted leather couches to the fizzing green lamps. He recalled his own childhood days here. Even when he attended Hogwarts, he remembered feeling so lonely in a room crawling with proud purebloods all whom he was supposed to call family. He wondered…did his son feel like that too? Did he feel out of place? No. No, he couldn’t. His son had Albus. A genuine and true friend. Draco…Draco had no one. Now, years later, the drowning feelings of isolation were especially present. But…perhaps he wasn’t paying attention. Perhaps he wasn’t looking close enough. Perhaps he wasn’t alone after all. The only one…the only person he felt alive with…he felt at ease with… was his son. He turned back to Scorpius and suddenly, he felt at peace. He met eye contact with the portrait of Salazar and rolled his eyes. The Slytherin house, he remembered, only encouraged blood purity. After meeting Astoria only then did he realize the toxicity of it all. He felt ill, recalling his days when he would waltz around Hogwarts, spitting out cruel remarks at Muggleborns, carrying a smile that never belonged to him, pretending to himself and other around him that he had it all. He hated Hogwarts. He hated it. Every memory imprinted within the dungeons and the sunken grounds of Hogwarts was a painful reminder of his solitude and torment. If he could do it over again, he would in a heartbeat. He’d make different choices. Ignore his parents’ belief that Muggleborns were scum and that the only thing that mattered was one’s blood status. He’d choose his friends wisely. Hang around people he actually liked. Draco needed to get out of here. Coming back to Hogwarts was excruciating. This was the place he felt abandoned. Alone. This was the place where he was ordered to kill Dumbledore, but in the end, couldn’t. He remembered how gentle Dumbledore had been to him. How he tried his best to talk him out of the task the Dark Lord had cruelly assigned to him. Hogwarts was the place he first saw death. He could still it.

Severus…please…

Avada Kedavra!

Like a ragdoll, Dumbledore fell off the Astronomy Tower. Draco could feel Snape’s tight grip on his shoulder, pushing him out of such a terrible scene. Draco shook that memory away, and then, to his dislike, was slapped with another recollection. The fire. The unbearable scream. And just like that, awful memories began hitting him like bricks. This was the place where Crabbe burnt to his death. This was the place he was hexed with Sectemsempra and lay bawling, inches away from demise. He didn’t want to be at Hogwarts right now. He wanted to be anywhere but here. All he needed at this present moment was to speak with his son. Draco quickly looked up and faked a smile at the astonished Slytherins staring expectantly at him. What were they waiting for? Did they anticipate him to a do a dance for them, or something? Silly children. Draco cleared his throat, hoping no one would notice his sorrow. Then again, no one ever did. “Do carry on with your party.” He ordered a little too loudly. He flicked his wand, blasting on the music again and within seconds, reluctant Slytherins turned confident and danced around the room, resuming their fun. Draco raised his eyebrows at the two boys, patiently waiting. 

Scorpius half turned to Albus who slowly nodded, and together, both fathers and sons stalked up the marble suitcase, and darted into the empty Boy’s Dormitory. Albus and Scorpius sat side by side on Albus’s unmade bed, their legs touching, while Harry and Draco sat on Scorpius’s made-up bed, which was splattered with books of all sorts and sizes. The pair faced their sons apprehensively, clearly unsure how to begin. 

“W-what is this about, Dad?” Scorpius murmured, stealing a glimpse of Albus’s pale expression, before turning back at his father. “Are…are we in trouble?”

Draco pulled his eyebrows together, ignoring his question. “What’s happened to your tie?”

“Oh.” Scorpius’s face changed from puzzlement to embarrassment. He quickly removed his tie, folding it neatly on Albus’s bed. “What a great question. I. Erm. I erm. I…I dunno.” He mumbled sheepishly.

Albus let a coarse breath escape his lips. Clearly, he needed to teach his boyfriend how to lie. 

Harry turned to Albus at once. “Anything you’d like to add, Al?”

“No.” He answered. 

Harry took a deep breath, and rose to his feet, stepping closer to his son. Albus in no time, also stood up, both father and son staring at one another, as if they were looking into mirrors, wondering how they were so different when they were from the same blood. Harry was sure they were opposites in many ways. But they were more similar than they were different. Both were born with Lily Potter’s eyes. Both have come face to face with a descendant of Voldemort. Both were stubbornly heroic. Both valued friendship above anything else, even over their own lives. Harry noted his son’s ice cold expression. He could tell his son was trying his very best to keep a front that he was hot-headed and upset, when really, he was drowning in aching. He needed his son to let his guard down. Harry patted his son warmly on the shoulder, clearing his throat. “I must ask you, Albus. Is there something you wish to tell me? Anything at all?”

Albus stared at him dead in the eye, inching closer to him. “No, Sir.” He replied, shifting his bushy eyebrows up, locking his fingers behind his back as he spoke. “Nothing.”

Harry felt chills all over. Now he finally knew how Albus Dumbledore must have felt when Dumbledore had asked Tom Riddle that exact same question and had asked it again to Harry years later for both boys had uttered the same response. Now his son, his own son, had gave the exact same answer. It was quite unnerving. Harry watched his son’s stone-like posture. He knew better than to believe Albus. His son could get himself a career when it came to lying. It seemed being deceitful was his hobby. He needed his son to be honest with him. Harry knew for a fact, that Albus was keeping secrets from him. That is why he came, after all. To unhinge those secrets. He decided to press further; to try to coax his son to open up to him. “You have…you have nothing you’d like to tell me. Nothing at all?”

“Come on, Dad.” Albus said in a frosty, hostile tone of voice. “Will you just tell us what this is about?” 

He didn’t want to have to resort to this, but Albus was leaving him with no options. “See for yourself.” Harry said quietly and fished out a crumpled piece of parchment, waving it at his son’s conflicted face.

Albus ripped the paper out of his Dad’s hand, and sat back down on the bed, showing it to Scorpius, both burying their faces in the parchment, reading guardedly until they were positive they had the muddled handwriting implanted in the back of their minds. 

Uncle Harry,

I know you’re mad busy with work at the Ministry and I do hope this letter gets to you on time. This is a strictly urgent manner. You’re probably wondering why I am writing to you and my answer is this: you need to know what is going on at Hogwarts. Believe me, the last thing I want to do is to be a snitch, but, I need to alert you about what is going on with your son. Something is seriously wrong with Albus. I know it isn’t my secret to tell, but someone needs to know. The truth is…Albus….your son…he’s not doing so well. He’s ill and I am afraid if he continues to remains silent, you can lose him. This secret can kill him and I do not think I could live with myself if something had happened to him and I had known all along, but chose to withhold Albus’s secret from you. You must ask your son what is going on. You have to hear it from him. I cannot disclose much, but please talk to him. He’s keeping a lot from you. If you don’t believe me, just ask Scorpius Malfoy. He knows about all of this. He is also a huge part of one of Albus’s secret. 

\--Rose Granger Weasley 

P.S. Please don’t tell Albus or Scorpius that I told you any of this. They’d kill me in a heartbeat. Just find a way to talk to Albus. Let him ease up to you. Leave me out of this. I finally got Albus to open up to me. I fear if he finds out I had reached out to you, he’d hate me. I cannot lose him. I just cannot. 

“Well,” Albus said coldly, his face puffing into a blinding complexion of maroon, balling the bit of parchment in his crooked fists. He jolted to his feet and in no time, Harry jumped up as well. Albus was nearly as tall as his Dad at the ripe age of fifteen. The anger fuelling his body and mind was practically impossible to conceal. Harry could have sworn he saw smoke coming out of his son’s ears. Albus was shaking irrepressibly, but he wasn’t sure if his fury was now replaced by fear. Fear of his Dad finding out he was gay. Fear that all the secrets he kept sealed away for years were now being brought to the surface. This wasn’t the way it was supposed to be. He was supposed to tell us Dad about all of this when he was ready—and Albus was far from ready. He wanted to shout until he couldn’t feel his lungs anymore. Wanted to weep until he ran out of tears. Wanted to punch the walls until his fists were black and blue. But most chillingly, he wanted to use the Quill once more. “She’s…s-she’s right about one thing. I will kill her in a heartbeat.”

“Albus,” Harry said defensively, raising his hands in the air as he spoke. “She meant well—”

“Dad!” Albus cried, his fists clenching harder onto the maimed parchment. “She violated my space. My secrets. And for what?”

“To make sure you’re alright.” Harry said. “Clearly something is going on with you. You’re not acting like yourself. You’re jumpy. You’ve got bags under your eyes. You look ill…”

“This is what Hogwarts does to me!” Albus shouted. “It kills me, Dad. It kills me.”

“Al…” Harry whispered, trying hard to comprehend what his son was saying. He opened his arms for a hug. “Come here.” 

But Albus shook his head, backing away from his Dad. “I can’t believe Rose would do this to me.”

“She didn’t do this to you,” Harry said evenly. “She did this for you. You’re hiding something. I can see it! I can see it in your face.”

“Yes but Rose had no right to send you that.” Scorpius agreed, springing to his feet for good measure.

“I am his father,” Harry spoke up, his green eyes stretching into a glare as his gaze met Scorpius’s dusky irises, who looked away almost instantly, mumbling disparagingly to himself as he sat back down. Perhaps it would not be wise to pile on. But…he wanted to help Albus. Albus needed him. Truth be told, Harry Potter scared him quite a lot—and he clearly looked unhappy when Scorpius sided with Albus on this matter. Maybe it’s best if he remained silent?

Harry scratched his forehead and whisked closer to his son, placing a steady hand on his Albus’s shoulder. He learned his lesson from last year. Shouting will not get them anywhere. It would only open locked doors, inviting even more problems they certainly did not need to be burdened with. Harry sunk his voice. “Al, please let me in. Talk to me about what’s going on. I know we don’t always see eye to eye, but I am your Dad and maybe I can help.”

Draco was now standing up as well. “And Scorpius, you too! How on earth are you a huge part of Albus’s secret?” He asked, joining into the conversation. “Tell me, son.” He said warmly, trying to speak to him the way Astoria used to. Astoria always knew how to talk to Scorpius. She had this beautiful art to her. From her honeyed voice to her gentle touch, Astoria had it all. She had this enriching perfume of overwhelming kindness and patience that cast a spell on him. Scorpius would always speak with her about anything. Now with her gone, Draco knew Scorpius had no choice but to lean on his Dad to remedy his problems. He had to make sure his son told him everything. He wanted his son to be completely open with him. He didn’t want there to be any secrets between them. 

“I’m going to kill Rose.” Albus mumbled through scrunched teeth. “Just when I was beginning to think she was alright.”

“She’s Scorpius’s girlfriend and your cousin,” Draco reasoned. “I’m sure what she did was in the best interest of you two.”

Scorpius raised his hand as if he were in class. His Dad rolled his eyes, but pointed at him nonetheless. Scorpius stumbled to his feet, his eyes shifting from Albus to his father. “Well. You see. She’s—she’s not… m-my girlfriend.” He admitted. 

“What?” Draco blinked, turning to look at Harry to see if he was surprised by this, too. Harry, however remained quiet as he continued gazing at his son skeptically. “You two broke up?” Draco questioned disbelievingly. This certainly was news to him. He at least thought his son would let him know of this by sending him an Owl. What’s even more surprising that his son did not appear heartbroken at all. He almost seemed relieved. Happy, even. “Since when?”

“Oh.” Scorpius shuffled his feet awkwardly in place. “Since when? Wow that’s—just an excellent question, really. But. Sorry. I think it’s bedtime. G-goodnight.” He said shortly and spun the other way, heading to back to Albus’s unmade bed. An odd question floated through his mind. Now that he and Albus were boyfriends…would they be sleeping together? Of course—not in that way. He positively wasn’t ready for that. Not for another five years at least. He only meant, would they be sleeping together strictly in a cuddling manner? Scorpius would like to do that. To curl into bed with Albus, their arms tangled with one another. Albus always did look especially comfortable whenever he was asleep. The thought made Scorpius feel quite safe. 

“Scorpius, where are you going? It is not bedtime, now get back here!” Draco cried, lugging him back to reality. He grabbed his son’s arm before he could leap into the depths of the quilted sheets. He was not a very patient man. He had no idea how Astoria held so much splendour and serenity when it came to Scorpius. She was always so good at her job. She knew how to speak with him; how to get him to open up to her. Draco, on the other hand, was temperamental although he always did his best to remain composed. He just wanted his son to be safe. That’s all. He let go of his son, raising his thinned blonde eyebrows. “What I want to hear come out of your mouth right this instant is the truth.” He demanded, twisting his face up at the glossy roof, visibly irate. 

Scorpius gazed at Albus, quickly caving in. “Should we?” He whispered.

“I can’t!” Albus panicked. “Not my Dad out of all people!” 

Harry closed his eyes, and turned away. Was his relationship with his son still strained? Was it damaged beyond repair? Maybe he made a mistake coming here, thinking he would be able to play the hero. Thinking for a split second that maybe his son actually needed him. All he wanted was to be there for his son. Was that so foolish of him? 

“Would you prefer—? Would it be easier if—” Harry sighed deeply, opening his rich emerald eyes. “Should I ask your Mom to come, then? Perhaps she’ll get through to you.” He suggested considerably. 

“No. Dad.” Albus shook his head apologetically. He knew his Dad was coming from a good place. He knew he only came here because he was worried for him. “Sorry. That’s not what I meant. I—just…this isn’t easy…”

“Perhaps we should speak in different rooms?” Draco advised. 

“No.” Albus crumbled the folded piece of paper in his hand and threw it on the floor. He inched closer to his boyfriend until their shoulders met. “I can’t be away from Scorpius.”

“Oh.” Draco smiled, looking down at his brown boots. He faced Harry, patting him on the back. Harry made an uncomfortable face at Draco’s touch. Yes they were now indeed friends, well…sort of. They were not close like how he and Ron were. How come Draco was being particularly friendly? And what was he beaming about, anyway? Harry didn’t know what was going on. Draco grinned at Albus and Scorpius, feeling his cheeks burn like fire. It finally happened, did it? He pondered. He wrapped his large arms around Scorpius, blanketing him in with his warm touch. Scorpius was utterly surprised by this. His Dad hated hugs. It was always Scorpius who had to come crawling to him, craving an embrace. Scorpius smiled and closed his eyes, hanging onto his Dad like glue. He never wanted to let go. It was nice. All he needed was his Mom to join in on the hug, and it would have been perfect. Scorpius couldn’t recall the last time his Dad hugged him. Draco cleared his throat. This embrace was far too long. “Okay. That’s enough hugging.” He muttered.

“Oh.” Scorpius said, and slipped out of his dad’s huge arms. 

Draco turned to Albus, flashing him a smile. Albus, however, only frowned at him, quite alarmed at Draco’s abrupt affability. “I…I do think I have a clue of what that letter was about. I may know what this huge secret is. But if I am wrong…I should not say it.” 

“How about this?” said Harry. “We stay in the same rooms but I’ll use an enchantment so we won’t overhear on each other’s conversations? I’ll use the Silenco Charm.” Harry asked, pulling out his wand. 

Albus, for the first time, it seemed, agreed with his Dad. “I like that plan.” He said, raising his thumbs up for emphasis. As long as he was with Scorpius, they would be okay. 

“I need to talk to Albus first!” Scorpius squeaked, pulling Albus with him and running over to the corner of the room where they were far away from their fathers and instead, were pressed against the window sill that reflected the edgy waves of the Black Lake. 

“Easy Scorp.” Albus smiled, cocking his eyebrow up. “You know when you hold me like this, I just want to kiss you again, right?”

Scorpius blushed and let go of him at once. “I—sorry. Erm. Me too, actually. I mean—I always want to snog you. B-but erm, anyway, I think my Dad knows. About us. He’s smiling like crazy. And…he hugged me. That never happens. Look at him beam! It’s like someone used the Tickling Charm on him or something. And the great part of it all is I don’t care. You can even kiss me if you like. Go on. Kiss me. The cheek or the lips would do. Personally, I prefer the lips.”

Albus smiled at Scorpius, but shook his head, darting his eyes back at the two men sitting on the bed. They seemed to be pointing at their Slytherins robes while talking inaudibly to one another. It was a strange scene. “I can’t.”

“You’ve done it in front of all the Slytherins. Is your Dad really all that bad?”

“He just…” Albus sighed, squeezing his eyelids shut. “This might be a big deal to him. We’ve never talked about….it.” His voice was barely audible. “I don’t know how he’d take it. And my Dad is famous. If he knows…if I tell him, sooner or later, everything will change. Everyone will know. That would fly nicely in the Daily Prophet. I can see the headlines now. ‘Harry Potter’s Son…Gay?’ Or ‘Potter’s Squib Son: Homosexual?’ We’d be the laughing stalk. And Dad…he could never—he doesn’t understand me.”

“If your name ends up in the Daily Prophet,” Scorpius beamed, “my name will be right behind you.” The headlines will read: ‘Voldemort’s Son: Madly in Love with Potter’s Squib.’”

“Oh stop it.” Albus smiled. “You’re not Voldemort’s son.”

“And you’re not a Squib.” Scorpius countered. “But yes. However the outcome is, we’ll face it together. I really do think your Dad will be okay with it. Plus, James always makes jokes about us, anyway. It can’t be much of a shock.” 

“I hope so.” Albus said, although he appeared dubious. 

“Help him to see you.” Scorpius whispered. “Let him see your beautiful self.” He turned back and watched Harry and Draco quietly converse. It was odd, seeing them get along. Or at least try to. He gazed into Albus’s enchanting eyes. He felt overly excited. Coming out to his Dad suddenly didn’t seem so difficult—especially if his Dad looked like he had a fair idea of what was going on. He only wished the same could be said about Albus. Coming out should be okay for Albus, too, especially because of the comments James had typically made about him and Albus. Coming out to their fathers would be a good thing. Once Albus told his Dad about them, a weight would be lifted off both of their exhausted shoulders. It was a difficult, but necessary task. “I’m going to tell my Dad about us.” Scorpius decided. “What you choose to tell your Dad is entirely up to you.”

“I know.” Albus muttered. “You’re right.”

“Albus!” Scorpius gasped suddenly, hysteria clouding his face. He quickly pulled out a spare parchment out from his pants pocket. “I nearly forgot to tell you about this! I found this inside your Slytherin robes. Didn’t want anyone to see it so I hid it instead.”

Albus stared at the paper, observing the fine cursive writing in bright green colour. “Merlin’s beard.” He gulped. “I forgot I left it inside my robes. Thank Dumbledore you found it! Did you read it?”

“Not yet but may I?”

Albus nodded. “Yes of course. I…I was going to show you this later, but I…” His voice trailed off, watching Scorpius read the note. 

Use me as your own personal noose  
Your lover’s blood is now on the loose  
A tortured mind will go mad  
Death shall take the second Dad

“Albus why…” Scorpius breathed, holding the note in his hand, scrutinizing it cautiously. “…why…are you carrying this? This must be the note that Yann left you! It was in that package that day, wasn’t it? I remember you telling me the Quill came with instructions.”

“Yes.” Albus said, thrashing his head behind him to make sure they were not being overheard by their fathers. “This is what Yann had sent me along with the Black Quill.”

“But why do you carry this wherever you go?” He whispered. “Don’t you find that just a little…alarming?”

“You’re freaking out, Scorp.” Albus said evenly. “I only take it wherever I go because I didn’t want anyone ever finding out about this. If I kept it unattended, that would not be wise. I mean, if anyone discovered this in my room, I’d be dead. Besides, taking it wherever I do is useful. It helps me think. Still haven’t cracked the riddle yet. What do you suppose it means?”

“Dunno.” Scorpius propped his shoulders up and down. “Who’s your lover?” He pondered, feeling increasingly jealous at the thought of Albus being with someone other than himself. 

Albus’s bright green eyes flickered onto Scorpius’s lips. “You’re my lover.” 

Scorpius grinned at him. “I was hoping you’d say that.” His face changed to gloom once he re-read the note. He clipped his thumb in his mouth as he spoke. “Do you think there’s truth in what he’s saying? If Yann is talking about me, how is my blood on the loose? I am not bleeding or anything.”

Albus chewed his nails. “No idea.”

“’Death shall take the second Dad.’” Scorpius read. “That sounds disturbing. Do you think we ought to tell our Dads about this? I mean, they could be in danger!” His voice was high pitched and frightful. “What if Yann wants to kill your Dad? Or mine? Or both!”

“Calm down, Scorp.” Albus consoled gently, ignoring Draco and Harry’s gazes pressed with them. He offered them a smile before turning back to his boyfriend. He whispered as he spoke. “I reckon he’s trying to frighten me is all. Mind you, this note was given to me a year ago, and nothing awful had happened to me. If he wanted to hurt them, he would have done so already.” He heaved his shaggy eyebrows together. “Remember what he said in the library? The Quill was a scare tactic. This note probably is as well.” 

Scorpius frowned. “Maybe. I say we tell the Headmaster. Anonymously if we have to. I mean, if we tell the Headmaster of this note, we’ll have to tell him about…well…you know…the marks on your arms.”

“I don’t know what’s worse. Telling my Dad about us, this note or about that bloody Quill!”

Scorpius’s eyes widened. “The Quill!” He remembered. “Speaking of which—” He tucked his hands into his robes, and then realized—too late, he left the Slytherin robes carelessly on the bed, which was now being inspected by Harry Potter himself, who fished his hands within the depths of the pockets. 

“Oh no.” Scorpius whispered, pointing at Harry in utter mortification. “You left the Quill in your pocket! That’s what I had wanted to tell you, but then our dads had burst into the dormitory! You better get a hold of it before—”

“No, Dad, don’t!” Albus cried, sprinting towards him with Scorpius right at his heels.

Harry plucked the Black Quill out of the large pockets of his son’s Slytherin’s robes and stared at Albus, his jaw clenched. A million excruciating questions and thoughts flowed through his head. He suddenly saw Umbridge’s manipulative, despicable toad-like face dressed uproariously in blinding pink. He recalled her frog-like smile and her sing-song piercing voice. Her maddening Hem, Hem. It was as if he were thrown in an excruciating flashback and could not get out of it. There, Harry could see his angry, frustrated, agonized fifteen year old self, sitting in Umbridge’s filthy cat-crawling, frilly pink office with a long piece of parchment and that horrible, Black Quill. 

I want you to write, I must not tell lies.

How many times?

Oh let’s say, until the message sinks in…

Was the same thing happening to his son? Was this what Rose was talking about? Why was this in his possession and who put it there? Was it Delphi? No. How could it be her when she was locked up in Azkaban for good? 

Harry wanted to scream. He was practically seething as he gripped hard onto that awful Quill. “Where did you get this?” 

Albus fell silent, staring at the floor.

“Perhaps we should go,” said Draco courteously, nodding at Scorpius. “We can talk someplace else. The Great Hall?” Draco walked over to the exit of the Boy’s Dormitory, waiting for his son to follow, but to his surprise, Scorpius wouldn’t move. He remained standing there side-by-side with Albus and slowly, moved his hand near Albus’s, a small gesture to let him know that he understood—that he understood that Albus was scared beyond belief at this moment. He touched Albus’s cool hand to let him know that he was here —that he had absolutely no intention of deserting him. The second Albus felt Scorpius’s warm fingers pressed onto his knuckles, Albus grasped hold onto Scorpius’s soft hands, interlocking their fingers, not caring that Draco and Harry were there, watching, drinking it all in. At this very moment, he was petrified. He needed to hold onto Scorpius. He didn’t care that he probably outed them by a single touch. He needed Scorpius. He couldn’t breathe and it was Scorpius who made him remember how to breathe again. 

Draco watched his son and hold hands with Albus Potter, and looked away almost immediately. Harry stared at Albus’s bowed head, observing how tightly he was holding onto Scorpius. Were they—? No. they couldn’t be. Perhaps the two were just really close friends? It didn’t matter. None of that mattered. What mattered right now was that his son was in possession of a very dark and dangerous artifact.

“I’m waiting, Al.” said Harry. 

“Dad, please…” Albus whispered. “It’s nothing. I…I swear.”

Harry’s green eyes flickered over to Albus’s sleeves, which Albus kept tugging at. “Roll down your sleeves.” He said quietly.

“Dad—”

“Do it, Al.”

“Please.”

“Al, I’m not doing this to punish you.” Harry said, wanting nothing more than to erase his son’s suffering. He remembered the night in the delivery room. He remembered holding his son, vowing to never let him be touched by the darkness of the wizarding world. He remembered creating broken promises to him—telling him that he would shield him from all the horrors that impacted Harry during his life. Now it seemed… they were walking through similar paths. Did someone make him use the Blood Quill? Was it Umbridge? No. She was also in Azkaban for her crimes against Muggleborns. Has she managed to escape? Certainly not. Harry worked at the Ministry. If someone escaped Azkaban, he would be the first to know. Or perhaps, it was a distant relative of hers who slipped the Quill into his Al’s robes? But why him? Why would they choose to target him? Someone gave his son a grave artifact and Harry was going to do whatever he could to get to the bottom of this. He didn’t care if doing so made him look like a bad father. His son’s well-being was priority. He needed his son to be safe. Alive. He observed his son who was trembling all over. Something was seriously wrong. “Al,” said Harry testily, trying not to show any remorse, but his voice cracked as he spoke. “Roll them down, or I will myself.” 

Tears were swimming in Albus’s eyes, but he refused to let them fall. Albus looked at Scorpius ruefully. This was all going wrong. He hated Rose. He hated her. He didn’t want to roll down his sleeves. Couldn’t his Dad see that? Couldn’t his Dad spare him the humiliation? Now he had everyone watching. Scorpius—who already saw his forearms twice. Now his Dad—and Draco Malfoy. What would they think if they knew? Would Draco disapprove of him as Scorpius’s boyfriend? Would he spread rumours about him? Would Draco hate him? Would his Dad? 

Albus thought quickly. “I need to go to the Hospital Wing.” 

“Then I’ll take you. But now, roll down your sleeves.” 

Albus’s face strengthened. “No.” He plucked out his wand, directing it at his father.

“Albus!” Scorpius hissed, letting go of his hand at once.

Draco too, reacted, as he took a step back, propping his wand up, in case Albus were to aim a curse at him. With his sallow grey eyes, he signalled Scorpius to follow him. To leave the dormitory that now proved to be hazardous. He didn’t want anything happening to his dear boy. Scorpius, on the other hand, shook his head and continued gazing at Albus’s anguished expression.

“You’re not like this.” Scorpius whispered, and slowly touched his hand, trying to lower his wand. His voice was a serene whisper. “You know who you are and I love who you are. I know you’re sad. Know you’re scared. But it’s going to be alright. I promise. Lower your wand, Albus.”

Harry merely stared at his son’s cherry wand kissed with seed-like markings across the base, and then reverted his emerald eyes back at his son, whose face was contorted with immense guilt, pain and clouded with inerasable unhappiness. 

“Don’t—” Albus said at once. His green eyes were drowning in pain. “D-d-don’t m-make me……h-hex you…” His voice was like charred glass. Like it didn’t belong to him. His hand couldn’t stop shaking. 

“Albus.” Harry said earnestly, taking a step closer to his son, ignoring the sharp end of Albus’s wand against his beating chest. “This isn’t you.”

“I…I d-d-don’t…d-don’t want to show you.” Albus sobbed.

“You don’t have to, okay?” Harry solaced, slipping Albus’s hand away from him and forcing his son’s bright brown wand into his own robes instead. He pushed his son into a hug who locked his arms around Harry’s neck almost immediately. He sobbed long and loud, sounding very much like a wounded werewolf. “Easy. Easy.” He patted his son’s spine, rubbing his hands up and down his back. “I’m going to take you to the Hospital Wing now, okay?”

“I love you.” Albus hiccoughed. “I love you. I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay.” Harry said gently, rubbing Albus’s messy hair, squeezing him tightly. “I know. I know. This isn’t you. Sometimes bad people make us do bad things. Make us think bad things. Make us do things we don’t want to do. When horrible things has happened to us, we make it a rather unhealthy habit to push people we truly love away until we are left empty and broken. Consumed with our worst and vilest thoughts and memories.”

“It’s true.” Albus sniffed, clinging onto him, resting his head on his Dad’s shoulder. 

“I’m going to take you to the Hospital Wing now, alright?”

“Yes.” He muffled, still holding tightly onto him. 

Harry kept his arm around Albus’s shoulder, meeting brave eye contact with Draco, who stepped out of his way, nodding in acknowledgement.

“I’m going too.” Scorpius decided, following them out. 

But Draco seized his son’s arm, who looked up at him as if he didn’t recognize him. 

“Oh no you’re not.”

Scorpius looked as though he were going to burst into tears. Why was he standing in his way? Didn’t his Dad understand? Albus needed him! “I can’t leave him down there all alone and scared!”

“He won’t be alone,” said Harry. “He has me.” He nodded at Scorpius trying to smile at him, knowing it was far from a beam. His demeanor was grief-stricken and deeply confused. He looped Albus’s arm over his neck, and led him down the spiral staircase, leaving Scorpius staring after them, heartbroken. 

Scorpius turned to look at his Dad. “I have to go.”

“Scorpius! Will you sit down?”

“I can’t afford to leave my—”

“Boyfriend?” Draco cut him off.

It was like the world stopped moving in that mere second. 

“What?”

Draco couldn’t help but smile. He was right, all along. He had his suspicions for years, but after seeing the pair hold hands, he knew that wasn’t something straight friends did. His son was gay. He knew it. He always knew. 

“You and Potter’s son?” Draco said. “You two are boyfriends, correct?”

“Um…”

Draco laughed. “You aren’t in trouble here, Scorpius. I just want to know.”

Scorpius looked down at his feet. “Well. Yes. We are.”

“You’re bisexual?” Draco asked. “Or gay?”

Scorpius didn’t have to think twice. “Gay.”

“What about Rose?”

“That was…me thinking I fancied her. But I didn’t like her in a romantic sort of way.” I loved Albus.” Scorpius said loudly, the words floating in the room like melted snowflakes. “It was always Albus.”

Draco nodded, understanding. He placed his hand on his son’s arm. “I’m glad you told me.”

Scorpius smiled at his Dad, feeling a sweet sensation of relief. “Y-you don’t seem that surprised…”

“That’s because I always sensed something between you two.”

“Really?” 

“Of course!” 

Scorpius peered up at his Dad. “Thank you for not hating me or wishing me dead.”

“Scorpius!” Draco cried. “I’d never think any of that!”

“I know.” He muttered. “I just—grandfather won’t be too pleased, will be?”

“You let me worry about him.” Draco said lightly, combing his hand into his son’s hair. “Now what was going on with Albus? He was crying awful hard. That Quill? Erm. Do you know what that was about?”

“No.” Scorpius lied. 

Draco was still trying to piece everything together. “So the letter Rose wrote. That explained how you were tied into Albus’s secret? That letter was just about you two being…together?”

“Yes.” Scorpius sounded like a robot. The lies that were coming out of his mouth tasted like dirt. He hated that he was lying to his Dad—especially since his Dad was so kind about Scorpius’s sexuality. But he knew better than to spill Albus’s secrets.

Draco appeared quite worried the way he kept glancing over his shoulder. He looked paranoid, almost. “Where is the Quill? Did Harry take it with him?”

“I think so.” He muttered nonchalantly. “He works for the Ministry so he’ll probably have someone investigate it so they can trace it back to the sender.” That would be good. That meant Yann would be caught. Imprisoned, even. His grey eyes swam over to the opened door. Should he make a run for it? The Hospital Wing was quite far away from the dungeons. It wouldn’t be wise, now would it? Plus, what if he came face to face with Yann again? But that didn’t matter. For Albus, he would take that risk. For Albus, he would do anything. He’d die for him. Kill for him. Wait, maybe scratch that last bit. Killing was a violation against nature. He’s never do that. Of course, unless he absolutely had to. “Dad, why can’t I see Albus?”

“He has his father with him.” Draco responded shortly, pacing around the room. He pressed his large hands by his temple, massaging them. He squeezed his eyes shut, shaking his head. “He doesn’t need you!” He suddenly bellowed.

“What?”

Draco looked absolutely furious. “He doesn’t need you, I said!”

“You don’t get to decide that.” Scorpius said coldly. “He needs me and I need him.”

Draco twirled the rope of his braid distractedly as he bounced his wand up and down his hand. “It just doesn’t seem healthy—the pair of you.”

“Dad, what are you going on about?” Scorpius cried. “Two seconds ago you just said you were okay with us as a couple!”

“The truth is, I’m not, alright?” Draco snapped.

Tears filled Scorpius’s eyes. “W-w-what?”

“We’re Malfoys. Purebloods. You cannot be gay, Scorpius. I will not allow it.” 

“Thought you said it doesn’t matter?” Scorpius was growing more confused and angrier by the second. “You said you’ve always known.” 

“I don’t approve of this, okay?” 

“I love him!” Scorpius yelled. “I love him and you can’t change that! Mom wouldn’t do this to me!”

“What did you say?”

Quickly, Draco advanced on his son, an arm raised. He took both of his beefy hands, with tears streaming down his shivering face, and shoved his son to the ground. Scorpius fell to the floor, looking up at his Dad, unsure what has gotten into him. This wasn’t him. His Dad never lay a hand on him. Ever. He didn’t like this. He didn’t like this angry, abusive, out of control person Draco had suddenly transformed into.

“MOM WOULD HATE YOU IF SHE COULD SEE YOU NOW!” Scorpius bellowed, twisting his head to the roof, hoping, she could hear him. Hoping, she would reveal herself to him and shield him from the monster that was his Dad.

“You are not allowed to see him anymore!” Draco yelled. “I forbid it!”

“What’s wrong with you?” Scorpius sobbed. “You’re scaring me!”

Draco crouched down beside Scorpius, blinking several times as he glanced up and down the room, as if he were unsure where he was. He looked as though he was not fully aware of the events leading up to this moment. Draco saw his son’s weeping, terrified face and within moments, Draco broke down crying. He hid his face into his hands, his shoulders quivering aggressively. 

“Scorpius…” He said hoarsely, trying to hold his son. But Scorpius wouldn’t let him touch him. He kept pushing him away. “I didn’t mean—please—just—?”

Scorpius had to go find Albus. Tell him what was happening. Warn him about how madly out of control his Dad was. More to that, he had to check to see if Albus was alright. He certainly couldn’t be having a ball with his father, either. Scorpius pulled out his curved yellowish wand splattered with roman numerals engraved on its bent body. “I am really sorry, Dad. But you leave me with no choice. Stup—”

"Expelliarmus!” Draco screeched, and Scorpius’s wand was knocked out of his hand, defenseless. 

“What are you doing?” Scorpius screeched, inching further away from him, his hands cowering over his head, in case his Dad was going to hex him. “This isn’t you!” 

In that moment, Draco Malfoy fell to the floor, his body unmoving.

“DAD!” Scorpius cried, rushing over to him, touching his chest, trying to feel a heartbeat. 

He thought of that awful riddle that Yann gave Albus. 

Death shall take the second Dad

Terror polluted his mind. No. Death is not going to steal another parent away from him. Not again. Not ever. He twisted his head over to the archway. “HELP! HELP ME!” The bloody music was blasted. It was so loud that the wooden floor began vibrating. He could hear the drunken teenagers laugh, clink glasses and scream with delight. Someone had to save him. Surely someone would hear his pleas. “HELP! SOMEONE HELP ME PLEASE!”

A thin woman entered the Slytherin dormitory, the silvery blue tips of her corkscrew black hair dwindling onto her bony face like gnarled fistfuls of straw. Her dark purple lips stretched into an eerie grin, her voice was a threatening, high pitched murmur. She was dressed in a rich red robe that swept onto the floor like sheets of ice, her bare pale feet touched with startlingly blood-like nail polish, sticking out of her attractive cloak at each slow, step. 

“Amusing…how easy it is to penetrate the human mind, isn’t it?”

Scorpius revolted back at once, until his spine braced against the bed. He stared up at Delphi in absolute horror. She was here. At Hogwarts. How did she manage to do that? This was her plan all along, wasn’t it? To get Scorpius alone? What about Albus? No. He was safe with his father, wasn’t he? 

“HELP!” Scorpius screamed, inching closer to his wand. “SOMEBODY—”

Delphi raised her wand and in an instant, Scorpius was silent. He tried to speak, to yell, but no sound would come out.

Delphi grinned at him, enjoying the absolute fear that was whittled in his cowardly eyes. She snapped her fingers and the wooden door behind her slammed shut. She hovered over to Scorpius’s bent body whose knees were arched over his chest, shrinking, as she drew nearer. “Well, hello, Scorpius Malfoy. It is quite nice to see you, too.”


	11. The Sacred Twenty Eight

“People think Avada Kedavra is the deadliest of the Unforgivable Curses.” Delphi glanced at Draco’s immobile body. His head was swivelled to the left and his eyes were wide open as if he were staring at something or someone hanging from the ceiling that was so grotesquely terrifying. He did not blink once. What’s wrong with him? Scorpius wondered. Please don’t be dead. Dad, please don’t leave me. I’ve got no one else. I’ve got no other parent. Draco looked as though he were petrified—just as the Muggleborns once were when the chamber of secrets had reopened. Scorpius recalled his Dad telling him all about that. Scorpius did not want to believe his Dad was…gone. He refused to believe it. No. He wasn’t dead. He couldn’t be! He was petrified; that was all—yes? Everything will be okay. Everything will be fine. He’d get Neville to brew a draught mixed with the finest, freshest Mandrake roots. Draco would be restored back to health in no time. In a few hours, he would no longer be petrified. In a few hours, his Dad would be alright again. Scorpius had to keep believing that, otherwise, he would fall apart once again. He stared at his Dad once more. There were still streaks of water that sullied Draco’s doughy cheeks. His Hawthorn Unicorn Wand was laying on the floor right beside his crooked left arm. At least Dad’s wand was in his reach—that way he can seize it and attack Delphi! Scorpius speculated, feeling a warmth of support and positivity flare in his chest. When Draco awoke, the odds would be in their favour, and together they can conquer Voldemort’s daughter. But it was as if Delphi was thinking the exact same thing, because she kicked the wand away from Draco in case he mustered the strength to somehow stand up. “Fools.” She susurrated, sounding like a poisonous, starving snake. “The Imperius Curse is far worse. How easy it was to puppet your father’s mind. A prime candidate, I must say.”

So…it made sense now. Draco was being controlled by Delphi when he had said all of those awful things to him. It was Delphi who disapproved of Albus—not his Dad. It was Delphi who hit him—not his Dad. Every foul thing his Dad had uttered earlier was said only because Delphi had used the Imperius Curse on him. His Dad was fine with him being gay. He approved of it. Known of Scorpius’s sexuality all along. Scorpius knew his Dad would never lay a finger on him—which is why he was startled the most; because Draco had been acting like an entirely different person. But the truth was—Delphi was his puppet master. The real question was: why? Why did she take part in controlling Draco’s mind? What purpose did that serve for her? Or was there truly no personal gain and she had only did that to spite Scorpius? Or, was that her idea of what “fun” was? She was a vile, wicked woman. Scorpius hated her each growing second. 

Trickles of deepest anguish raced down Scorpius’s quivering face. How could she do this to him? She came between both father and son, when Scorpius was coming out his Dad. She took that precious important moment away from him. She was awful. He hated her. He hated her. His Mom had always raised him to hate no one, but it was getting hard not to. He hated Delphi. He hated her! He knew crying in front of Delphi wasn’t the wisest idea, but he couldn’t help it. He knew it made him look vulnerable, but he simply could not stop, even if he wanted to. He was undoubtedly mortified. There Delphi was right in front of him. She was standing tall, peering down below, getting a good glimpse of Scorpius’s shattered self. She had already made his Dad utter such cruel things to him. She had already made his own father strike him to the ground. What more did she want? How else did she want him to suffer? What else did she want to take away from him? Of course. It was obvious, wasn’t it? Albus. Since she had used Imperio on Draco during Scorpius’s personal conversation with him—while Scorpius was admitting his feelings for Albus— that could only mean Delphi knew…she knew about him and Albus. Of course she knew. How could she not? She intruded in on them when Scorpius was coming out to his Dad. She ruined the moment, clouding it with poison. He began crying harder now. Was she going to take Albus too? He needed Albus. He needed Albus right this second. He needed to feel Albus’s sturdy arms wrapped around his body. He needed to hear his husky voice by his ears. He needed Albus to make him feel at ease. She wasn’t going to take Albus. Scorpius would do whatever he can to make sure that didn’t happen. Scorpius felt like he couldn’t breathe. He needed to leave. He had to get up. Move. Kick. Punch. Do something! But the thing was: he couldn’t move. It wasn’t because Delphi held him down with an invisible force nor was it because she had conjured a spell that rendered him frozen. The fact was, he couldn’t move due to uttermost vexation. He was paralyzed in fear. He never tasted fear like this before. Calm down! Scorpius reflected. Stop crying, and focus! Crying serves absolutely no purpose in this dilemma. He had to think sharply. Remain clever and focused. Think. Think. Think. What should he do? What would be his next move? What did he need to do right at this present moment? Ah, that’s it! His wand! He needed to get to his wand. He just had to keep Delphi talking so he could move his fingers behind him in a matter that was not obvious at all. He had to reach his wand, which was now rolling under the bloody bed! The good thing was, he didn’t have to speak in order to conjure a spell. All he had to do is to repeat the spell in his head several times. He had to cast nonverbal spells, which was something he was rubbish at. He had to do this best. This was a matter of life and death. Now, which spell should he use? It had to be one that wouldn’t get Delphi infuriated once the spell wore off—otherwise he would be positive that she would kill him strictly out of anger. It also had to be a good enough spell that would delay her from striking. Oh yes. He had one in mind. Now he had to keep repeating it. Oh right. He needed his wand first. He had everything prepared in the back of his mind. Once he got a hold of his wand, he would cast the spell nonverbally, bolt out of the room, and go find Albus. 

Delphi turned to Scorpius and gave him a frigid stare. “Now, now. No need for you to blubber.” She piped out, sounding like she was singing one of her favourite melodies with her lofty voice and sheer ardour. “Lucky for you, your father isn’t dead yet. Passed out. He is quite easy to navigate once you use Imperio. Poor little Malfoy. Surprised he’s even a Pureblood. No ounce of strength in him. Not one. Now, Scorpius. Abide by my rules, and you shall survive. Fail to do so, will result in you uttering your final breath.” The devilish smirk on her creamy face risen as she wiggled her shoulders with zeal, looking like an overgrown child on Christmas morning. “I just want to finish what I started. Now. Tell me. Where is Albus Potter?”

Scorpius could feel his face turn red with anger. I will not let you lay a hand on my Albus. Scorpius said to himself. Never.

“Oh right.” Delphi said shortly. “I’ve used Silenco on you. My mistake. The question here, dear Scorpius is this: how…do…I…know—?” She crouched down beside Scorpius and stroked his cheek with great gracefulness as she spoke. Scorpius instantly drew back from her, feeling his spine bore harder against the discoloured, metalled coil of the bed, ignoring the pins of needles he felt all over his back, glaring at her with every inch of animosity he possessed. His hands made its way underneath the cot, trying to grasp his wand without raising any suspicions. “Scorpius,” Delphi sang in a frightening tune, “how do I know I can trust you?” She queried, still holding onto his face. She was looking like she was doing her very best to charm him. It was like he was looking into the face of a devil that looked like an angel. She was breathtaking yet appalling. Cunning yet innocent. He wanted her to let go of him. He didn’t want anything to do with her. She had tortured him. Killed Craig Bowker Jr. Traumatized Albus. Used Imperio on his Dad who was now knocked unconscious. And now—now she wanted to harm Albus once more. He hated her. He hated her so much. Delphi motored her smooth hands up and down his trembling cheeks, trying her very best, it seemed, to allure him the way she had once compelled Albus. “How do I know, if I give you your voice back, you won’t just scream?” 

Please don’t touch me. Scorpius pondered. Please get your horrible hands off of me. Let go of me now. Right this instant.

“Okay, okay,” Delphi withdrew her hands off of him and tapped her fingers by her chest. “There.”

Wait—? Did she—? Did she hear him? No, how could that be when she had used Silenco on him? Everything he had said—he said in his head—? How could…how could she hear his thoughts? Hang on. She could—? A horrible thought fallen through his head. 

She could read minds?

“Yes I can.” Delphi replied at once, massaging her scalp with her pale fingers, mopping her stunning, silvery hair with splashes of sapphire at the scorched ends, and lacing her thick, striking hair over her hooked shoulders. She glanced at the ash Yew Wood wand in her hand, and began twirling it about. She scrunched her nose in disgust, taking a finger and tracing the wooden wand, appearing quite unimpressed by its obscured bearing. Clearly, this wand was not her own, but one she had stolen, or won off another. He remembered what her own wand looked like. It was unyielding; made from Phoenix Hair and Walnut, red as blood. “Wondering where my wand is, are you, boy? Hate this old ruddy thing!” Delphi pouted, fluently accessing Scorpius’s mind. “Of course—mine was taken away from me when I entered the cold gates of Azkaban. Ever been to Azkaban, Scorpius?” She asked the question even though she was well aware of the answer. Delphi smirked at him, her pearl white teeth shining like diamonds. “Oh, you wouldn’t last two seconds in there. Dementors are crawling over every inch of that place. After a while, you learn to get used to it. Numb yourself so the pain wouldn’t feel so horrific. They don’t affect me anymore. Being thrown into that place is probably what had encouraged me to become a Legilimens. This art of magic was self-taught, of course. I was not born with it. Naturally gifted, and fiercely determined, I would say. I could read minds. Not just the Dementors’ minds, but other prisoners. I know perfectly well how to toy them, read into their weaknesses, make them do things for me. Things they certainly didn’t want to do. Help me escape Azkaban, for instance. Cover for me whenever the guards come to do their count…”

Scorpius could not believe his ears. She was—she was a Legilimens! Being a skilled Legilimens was yet another power Delphi held against Scorpius. If only, if only Scorpius knew all about the “obscure branch of magic”, as Snape used to call it—that is Occlumency. Scorpius nonverbally began quoting textbooks on Occlumency he remembered discovering in the dusty bookshelves at the Manor. It is ancient, and has existed since medieval times. It can prevent a Legilimens from accessing one's thoughts and feelings, or influencing them. A person who practises this art is known as an Occlumens. It would be quite useful to close his mind against Legilimency. If only he was mastered in such a skill. That way, he would be able to resist and block out Delphi from penetrating his mind. The most powerful thing a man holds is his mind. If anyone, has access to it, they are granted immediate access to one’s soul and very heart. Once Delphi got a hold of Scorpius’s mind, she would know everything. She would torture him into madness, no doubt, just for the thrill of it. Scorpius now knew he had to do whatever he could to not think too much. He had to empty out his mind; act as an unfeeling corpse, a blank slate that could not be coloured to life by a stroke of ink; otherwise, she would begin reading him like an opened book, anticipating his every move. Whatever he had to do, he had to do quickly—in the spur of the moment. He had to be unpredictable. 

Delphi rose to her feet, cracking a rather nasty sneer at him as she spun around, taking petite steps towards Draco’s motionless body, studying him like a paperback, looking as though she were trying to make sure he was indeed out cold. The red cape loosened at the sides at each step as she loomed close to Draco, revealing her bony shoulders. Scorpius could now clearly see the dark tattoo of an Augurey whittled on back, right near the corner of her lustrous shoulder. This made her even scarier, if that was even possible—for Scorpius remembered seeing this tattoo embellished on her sleek skin when they first met, not recognizing the significance of the bird until it was far too late.

Once her back was fully turned, out of sight, Scorpius leapt behind him, making the smallest of noises as he scrambled about beneath the bed, like a restless, determined toddler prepared to fight against the monster under his bed—and quickly got a steady hold of his wand. He sealed his fist shut, and shoved his arm behind him again—feeling the wood glue against his clammy palm like Drooble's Best Blowing Gum and proceeded to face Delphi once more with a guilty grimace, hoping she did not notice nor hear any movement behind her. Scorpius could not exhale out any air. His heart was pounding boisterously out of his chest, drumming fitfully like the hands of an out of control grandfather’s clock that could no longer tell time. Droplets of sweat bathed into his soaked forehead. He was trembling all over. He had to calm down—relearn how to breathe—but did not know how to.

Distract yourself! He scolded himself. Think of something! Anything!

Like second nature, his mind wheeled over to his boyfriend, Albus Potter. He thought about kissing him. He thought about that intimate kiss, reliving each glorious moment they had shared in the Restricted Section. How good it felt. How intoxicating those lips tasted. How beautiful it was. He loved him. Loved him more than anything. 

“I think,” Delphi smirked, her spine still facing him, “what you need is leverage.” She raised her wand by Draco’s head and faced Scorpius with a terrorizing snicker. Delphi gave him a shrewd and scheming stare. “I am going to reverse Silenco on you, and if you dare scream, your father will be gone just like your Mum. Understand?”

Like a puppet, Scorpius nodded, wanting nothing more than to feed her with believable lies. He watched his Dad’s frozen body, observing the strident, jagged end of Delphi’s wand pushed against his temple, a bellowing threat, an evil vow. Delphi waved her wand at Scorpius and within moments, Scorpius could hear himself breathe in and out. He didn’t even realize he had been so breathing heavily this entire time. But…Scorpius wasn’t going to scream. He knew better. His father’s life was on the line, after all. Scorpius took a deep breath, and thought of Albus once more. Snogging him. Feeling his midnight hair and in an instant, he slowly directed his wand at Delphi. He watched her mouth fall open her jaw screwing into a U shape, appearing momentarily surprised—while at the same time, awestruck—and quickly, Scorpius uttered the spell beneath his rigid breath.

“Petrificus Totalal—”

But Delphi was far faster, and whipped her hand in front of her, flicking her palm to the right, disarming Scorpius within a matter of seconds. It was effortless, wandless magic. Scorpius’s wand flew from his hand and bounced across the room, skittering over to his Dad’s brown boots. He charged over to Delphi, and knocked her to the ground, hearing her head bang onto the floor with a great thump. Crawling over to his wand, he managed to somehow cup the wand into his trembling hands. 

“Stupefy!” He hollered. 

Delphi was thrown backwards, slamming violently onto the ruby wardrobe. She waved her wand at Scorpius and gashes of blood opened on the palm of his hand. He let out a gasp of pain, drawing away from her, staring at his hand, squeezing his eyes shut at such agony. His grey eyes turned into razors of rage. 

“Expulso!” Scorpius yelled, but Delphi jumped to the ground, avoiding his attack with an angry sneer, flicking her wand at Scorpius.

“Levicorpus!”

Scorpius bolted out of the way, missing the sparks by just a mere seconds. “SECTEMSEMPRA!”

Delphi waved her wand, blocking the curse. “My, my, Scorpius. That is dark. Even for you. I want you to remember this pain the next time you dare to curse me like that again.”

Remember what pain?

She pointed her wand at Scorpius. “Crucio!”

“NO!” Scorpius shouted and stood there, paralyzed in fear, forgetting to rush out of the way. Too scared to even defend himself. Nothing could prepare him for the pain he was about to experience. Yann’s curse was a simple Jelly Legs curse compared to this. 

Invisible swords penetrated through every inch of Scorpius’s flesh. He screamed, falling to the ground, pretending Delphi’s laugher of glee did not startle him the slightest. He squeezed his eyelids shut, and began sobbing. “STOP IT!”

“Oh no, Scorpius,” Delphi grinned. “Don’t you understand, child? This is what happens to people who try to challenge me.”

Scorpius glared at her, wishing her dead. He gripped onto his wand. “CRUCIO!” He yelled and Delphi fell to the ground, immediately silent.

Did I do it? Scorpius thought. Did it work?

He forced himself to rise to his feet, tucking his wand into the back pocket of his pants, examining Delphi’s motionless body. I didn’t kill her, did I? A part of him hoped he did, and another part of him hoped he didn’t. 

Delphi got up, laughing, sending shivers all over Scorpius’s body. “YOU REALLY THOUGHT THAT WOULD WORK?” 

Scorpius snatched the wand out of Delphi’s hand, pointing it to her menacing face. How come it didn’t work? Did he not say it loud enough? “Crucio!” He shrieked. But again, it did not do any damage. 

“YOU FOOL!” Delphi thundered, ripping her wand out of Scorpius’s hands, and pushing it into her ruby robes. “YOU’RE SUPPOSED TO MEAN IT. DO YOU NOT KNOW HOW CRUCIO WORKS? YOU PATHETIC, USELESS BOY! HOW DARE YOU USE AN UNFORGIVABLE CURSE ON ME? HOW DARE YOU?” 

She pursed her purple lips together whilst gritting her shark-like teeth. Slowly, the meager woman with effulgent dark hair and blinding reddish eyes with hazes of green, slithered over to Scorpius, like a snake cornering its prey, and twisted her curled fists into his collarbone, hoisting him up, and slamming him against the brick wall, choking him. The grip on his throat dangerously closed in. 

“N-n-no!” Scorpius gasped. He felt as though he were running out of air. It was like he was being plunged into the Black Lake, and with every excruciating second, he was sinking deeper and deeper into the crashing waters that began crushing his lungs. He opened his eyes, staring into the wild, soulless face of Voldemort’s daughter. Her greenish, reddish eyes were shining with delight and her smile was so wide that a dimple clicked on her right cheek. She began choking him harder. Scorpius covered his hands with hers, desperately trying to pry her long fingers off from his neck. “P-please! S-s-s-stop!”

“Don’t. Ever.” Delphi warned through gritted teeth. “Do. That. To. Me. Again.” 

“I won’t! I won’t!” Scorpius whimpered. 

Delphi guffawed the dimple scrawled on her animated face shimmering and bold as ever. “Good.” 

She released him, and Scorpius fell to his hands and knees, frenziedly gasping in for air, stroking his throat as if it were the delicate spine of the Monster Book of Monsters, coughing severely. He gazed at his hand that was once dripping out droplets of blood, surprised to find it sewn back to fresh skin. However, the bruises marked on his hands from beating up Yann was still plastered on his flesh like unwanted and inerasable tattoos. The anguish of the Cruciatus Curse had also worn off. The only pain he felt now was his maimed throat. He wasn’t sure how much longer he could take all of this. 

Albus. He thought. Albus, I’m in danger. Albus, save yourself. Get Harry. Get Rose. Get out of here. Hurry. 

“My dear boy,” Delphi sighed, circling around him like a fox sensing a rabbit. “You bore me. You see, I can do this all night. But look at you. You’re barely alive, am I right? Bloody weak.” She turned her head over to Draco. “Just like your father over here.” 

Scorpius glanced around the room frantically and scrambled to his feet—still panting, walking backwards until his leg hit the drawer beside Albus’s bed, still coughing and rubbing his throat back and forth as if it were a crystal ball. Surely, there had to be something he can defend himself with. He knew using his wand against her would only madden her even more. As of this moment, he was open prey. An easy target. A spare. He might as well lay quietly while Delphi devoured his weakness, toyed with his heart and tortured him to insanity, until he begged to be reunited with his Mom. Actually no. No. He wasn’t—wasn’t going to do any of that. He wasn’t going to let any of those things happen to him. He was not going to give up. He had so much to live for. There were so many things he still had left to do. Graduate. Talk to Elfie. Visit his Mom’s grave and give her up-to-date news about him and his boyfriend. Spend summers at Godric’s Hollow. Meet Albus’s parents—with a proper introduction that is! Hear James say silly remarks about his relationship with Albus. Marry Albus. Kiss him once more. Work at the Ministry—perhaps in the same department at Albus so they would not be apart from each other. At the thought of his future, he now was devoted to do anything he can to make sure he still had a present. 

Scorpius fiddled with the many loose objects which were thrown on the bedside table and forcefully pocketed one of the quills, closing the tiniest of quills into his clenched hand. He knew he was fooling no one. He knew Delphi could clearly see what he was doing, but he didn’t care. He didn’t want to say he did nothing to save himself. Once this was over, he was going to say—proudly say—he did everything he could to defeat Delphi. 

“Whatever it is you want to do with me, get on with it already.” Scorpius said tensely, feeling a sudden pang of confidence and bravery dawn over him like a blanket of sun over the night sky. “I can take it.” 

Delphi let out a sharp cackle of laughter, throwing her head back, chortling with purest amusement, stepping closer to him, until she could feel his unsteady breath smoke into her pale face. She slammed her wand onto the drawer where he stood, challenging him to try to seize it. But Scorpius knew better. However, he could not pretend he wasn’t tempted to cup the wand into his hand and use it against Delphi. That would be giving her the satisfaction she certainly did not deserve. Of course he had his own wand shoved in his pants pocket, however, by the time he would reach into his pocket, and pull it out, she would already point her wand at him. He would have absolutely no chance.

“You really think I would kill my own blood?” Delphi remarked.

“What?” Scorpius asked dubiously. 

“You heard me.” She leered, caressing her ink-like hair, piercing her dark eyes with his. “We’re of the same blood, fool. Cousins.”

Scorpius shook his head. No. Anything but that. She was tricking him! She was trying to madden him. “You’re lying!” He shouted. The second he bellowed, he wished he could take it back. Yelling stung his lungs. He was in indescribable pain. After that awful attack inflicted by Delphi, breathing was seemingly impossible. His throat was scorching like flames of fire. 

“Oh Scorpius, do you really think I am thrilled of it, either?” Delphi sealed her hands together, clamping her long fingers with one another, like two pieces of a rubric that had molted into place. “We cannot change our family. I suspected you would have figured this out sooner. My Mum is Bellatrix Lestrange and she—she was…your Father’s Aunt. Naturally, that makes us cousins. Humorous, isn’t it? Us being related?”

Scorpius felt sick to his stomach by the turn of events. Was he really related to—to—? To her? It couldn’t be possible. It can’t be possible. Then again, why would she say all of this? To impale the knife further into his flesh? As much as he hated admitting this; what she was saying…it made sense. Bellatrix had been his father’s aunt after all and—and Bellatrix was the mother of Delphi. It was true. They were birthed from the same family tree, just branches away from each other. A shooting thought speared through his heart. It hurt so much that Scorpius could have sworn he was bleeding out. What would Albus think, if he knew? He’d hate me, wouldn’t he? Maybe it’s best I didn’t tell him—? No. No, I couldn’t do that! There was going to be no secrets between us. But…what would…what would Albus think if he knew? Perhaps he would stay away from me? What if—? What if…whenever Albus would look at me, he would no longer see me, but see Delphi’s face instead? But how could that be when I, Scorpius Hyperion Malfoy, was so different from Delphi? Anger rushed through his body. He clenched his knuckles nearly as badly as his teeth, glaring at his demon of a cousin. 

“We may be of the same blood, but we will never be family. I can promise you that.”

“Blood binds us as one.”

“No.” Scorpius shook his head. “Blood doesn’t make us family. Love makes people family, and I have no ounce of love for you.” 

“You speak too much, child,” said Delphi impatiently, and grabbed onto the wand she had placed on the table beside him, directing it at his face. “Albus Potter. Where is he?”

He eyed the wand circumspectly, and moved his grey irises to her outlandish, fuming face to her rage written eyes, feeling absolutely no horror embedded in his veins at all. “Haven’t you been listening to my thoughts?” Scorpius stuck his chin out. “You are not getting anywhere near him. I don’t care what you do or say to me. I will not tell you where—”

“I’ll torture you again.” Delphi declared with a light laugh. “That scared you.”

“It did.” Scorpius admitted, swallowing hard as he stared at the floor. He lifted his face up to get a good glimpse of his cousin, pondering deeply how on earth he could possibly related to someone so foul. Her reddish green eyes were empty and cold. Her long dark hair was frizzled and static, like a big ball of tangled wire and she was held together with bones, lust, deceit, and a desperate appetite for power. They were nothing alike. Scorpius, of course, did not want to be tortured yet again but he did not want Albus getting hurt, either. He would do anything to make sure Albus was safe. He’d lay his own life down if that’s what it took. He would have curses and hexes thrown at him, and even so, not even then would he dare give in. He was loyal. He loved Albus Severus Potter more than anything and anyone in the world. “I can take it. I can take it for Albus. Do it if you must.”

“I’m giving you one last chance.” Delphi ordered. “Tell. Me. Where. He. Is.” 

“Never.” Scorpius stuck his nose in the air. “You’ll have to kill me.”

“YOU FOOL!” Delphi shrieked, advancing on him. Scorpius immediately took cover with his arm, shielding it over his face, sure she would try to choke him again, but to his relief, she only stared at him with blades of indignation woven in her bloodshot gaze. “DON’T YOU SEE? I CANNOT SEND YOU TO YOUR DEATH!” She was screaming so much, reminding Scorpius of his grandfather—Lucius, who often had such explosive temper. Delphi sprayed Scorpius with her untamed spit, seizing the back of his neck, scrunching his light blonde hair in her gaunt fingers. He recoiled, trying to move away from her, but she was much stronger, refusing to let him escape from her profound and dangerous grip. He wanted to shriek—but thought about his Dad, and instead, remained silent, waiting for her anger to burn to dust. He wondered how, for the love of Dumbledore—did all of this yelling go unnoticed? How could the rest of the Slytherins not hear any of this? Was the music really all that loud? Delphi let out a tiresome sigh, releasing Scorpius, who veered backwards, and steadied his stance—putting a hand onto the wooden door, and wiped his face with his sleeve. Her anger—was a switch she clearly had difficulty shutting off. Delphi glared at Scorpius, although, she seemed like she was doing her best to calm down. 

“I am well aware that my Mum killed her cousin—Sirius, was it? But I do not intend on ending your life. You, after all, are a Malfoy. Part of the Sacred Twenty Eight. The Purest of all Bloods. Think I can dare let your precious blood spill? You, Scorpius Malfoy, are far too valuable.”

Scorpius knitted his eyebrows together. “What are you talking about?”

Her rage dissolved and was replaced by passion. “The Sacred Twenty Eight.” Her eyes glowed with longing and esteem at such words. “There are Twenty Eight Pureblood families in the Wizarding World, who—to this day remain truly Pureblood. If I end your life, Scorpius, I will lose a valuable member of the Malfoy family. You see, when Astoria passed, Draco remained a widow, and by the looks of it, the sad bloke will never move on. Have you seen his wallowing mind? Reeks of grief!” 

Again, Scorpius’s mind swivelled back to that awful, unfathomable riddle.

A tortured mind will go mad

“But…you,” Delphi smiled. “You might be the key to all of this. It is up to you to keep the family pure again.”

“W-what?” Scorpius did not have a clue on what was going on, but he didn’t like the creepy smile tinted on her face. “Whatever you want…whatever is going on in that strange head of yours, I want nothing to do with.”

Albus, I don’t know if you can hear me or not, but run. Get out of here. Now.

“Ah trying to communicate with your boyfriend?” Delphi laughed.

“N-no!” Scorpius lied. “He’s not my—?” What was the use of lying? “J-j-j-just stay away from him, alright?”

“He stands in the way, you know…” Delphi pratted. “Of the Sacred Twenty Eight. He’s Half-Blood. Not to mention is a male. How are you going to continue the Bloodline if you wed a male? Two boys getting married?” Her laugh was ice water. “I don’t think so.”

“Just so you know,” Scorpius said coldly. “I can marry whoever I please and I chose Albus. I don’t care about this mad Sacred Twenty Eight you keep going on about. I don’t care about any of it! I was taught better. I am no Pureblood fanatic like you are!”

Delphi looked like she was doing her best to not hex him. She’d already choked him, which nearly killed him. She needed him alive. But nothing could change the fact that she was deathly furious. She was scrunching so compactly onto the core of the wand which quivered quite terribly, that her knuckles turned as pastel as her snowy face. She took a deep breath and exhaled loudly. She couldn’t kill her own blood. That certainly was out of the question. But she hated her own blood too. How was Scorpius suddenly so collected? He was behaving awfully brave. She had to do whatever she could to break him. She knew his weakness: his dear boyfriend. She knew exactly what to say to set him off. She bit her violet lips, moving her hands across her heaving chest. “Is Albus enjoying that lovely Quill I had picked out for him?”

Scorpius, however, was fully aware of what game she was playing. She wanted to derange him. But he wasn’t biting the bait. “It wasn’t you who gave Albus that. It was—”

“Draco.” 

“Stop it!” Scorpius beseeched. “I don’t believe you!”

“Where do you think Yann got such an artifact?” Delphi tilted her head to the side. 

“Y-Y-Yann?” Scorpius felt himself wither. “I-I d-d-didn’t mention his name. I wasn’t even thinking about his name!”

“That’s because I know everything, cousin. Hear me out. Don’t allow yourself to fall blind because you refuse to see the truth. Draco willingly gave Yann the Black Quill during one of their Secret Meetings which take place down at the Manor’s basement—but of course—you know all about that, don’t you?”

Scorpius squeezed his eyelids shut. “You’re…you’re trying—t-t-trying to break me. It’s not working. It’s not going to work! It’s not!”

“Scorpius,” Delphi murmured in her silk voice, offering him a shred of sympathy. “Open your eyes and face the truth, child. Don’t you want to know who gave Albus that Quill? Of course, Yann delivered it. Noble boy, that is. But, the note— Scorpius—the note is the most important part of it all. It’s a prophecy. An Ill-Fated Prophecy is what it is called.”

“Whose Prophecy is it?” Scorpius whispered.

Her lips curled into a dangerous smile. “Albus Potter’s.”

“NO!” Scorpius screeched, stomping his foot. “Why would I believe you? After everything, why should I believe you?”

“If you want to walk through life blind and uneducated, very well, carry on—”

“No I—it can’t be—?”

“THE TRUTH!” Delphi howled. “Do you want to seize it, or not?”

“Yes.” Scorpius pleaded. “Yes. Tell me what you know.”

“Very well.” Delphi flashed him a smile. “Right when Albus was born, he was given an Ill-Fated Prophecy. A Prophecy that can either come true, or be whisked away into nothingness, shrivelled and forgotten. Rumour has it, if you look at this Prophecy, the chances of it coming true are much higher. But…if you leave it, unattended, and know nothing of it, there are slim chances of it becoming reality.”

“So…the note that was left on Albus’s bed—? That was—? His Prophecy?”

“Yes.”

“And—that was—from you?”

“I cannot take all the credit. Yann helped.”

Scorpius’s eyes widened. Something just clicked. “Hang on. Yann—? He has been under the Imperius Curse, isn’t he? All these things he has been doing—all the awful things he had been saying—about Albus and me—it’s because—? B-because you’ve been controlling him! Just as you had been controlling my Dad!” 

“Quite naïve of you to think Yann is incapable of such things. No, Scorpius. Believe it or not, everything he has been doing…things he has been saying, he has done so remarkably all on his own. Very enthusiastic.” 

Scorpius thought sensibly and began reciting the Prophecy so he could get a clearer sense of what was going on. “Use me as your own personal noose. Your lover’s blood is now on the loose. A tortured mind will go mad. Death shall take the second Dad.”

“Haven’t solve it yet?” Delphi asked. “My, my and I thought you were the smart one.”

“I need to think!” Scorpius groaned. Even if he did end up solving it, he had no intention of sharing his findings with her! Okay think. He needed to think. If this was a Prophecy—like she had said—and it was Albus’s Prophecy, he would do whatever he could to crack it. He had to keep repeating it in his head. Maybe that would do the trick. 

Use me as your own personal noose  
Your lover’s blood is now on the loose  
A tortured mind will go mad  
Death shall take the second Dad

Hmm. It wasn’t easy to crack. It didn’t make sense. Nothing did. Scorpius couldn’t believe there was a prophecy for Albus—one that his parents wanted to bury away and keep locked away within the Ministry of Magic. Weren’t they just a bit curious? Didn’t they want to know? Didn’t they ever peek, at least? Okay, he had to focus on the meaning behind the words. The prophecy only rhymed to throw him off, Scorpius suspected. He had to decode each line one by one. 

Use me as your own personal noose

That is talking about the Blood Quill. Delphi wanted Albus to use it to hurt himself. 

Your lover’s blood is now on the loose

“Lover” is referring to—? Me, isn’t it? I’m Albus’s lover. Even so, Scorpius could feel himself turn red at such a discovery. “Lover” is talking about me and because Delphi is on the loose, and she is my cousin—she is my blood. She is my “blood” that is “on the loose.”

A tortured mind will go mad

This is talking about my Dad. His mind is tortured over the loss of Mom. His mind will go mad, because—because Delphi used Imperio on him, and that destroyed him. That destroyed him to say all those nasty things to me.

Death shall take the second Dad

And this—? This is one I cannot figure out. My Dad is not going to die and neither is Albus’s. The rest of the prophecy might be coming true, but I will do whatever I can to make sure this does not become a reality. No one is dying. Not on my watch. 

“Have you solved it, then?” Delphi probed. 

Scorpius looked away from her, stupidly forgetting that she was a Legilimens. He had been so focused on that bloody riddle that he had disregarded the fact that she had access to his thoughts. He was a fool, after all. 

“Oh, don’t kick yourself, cousin.” She chuckled. “I’ve already solved it ages ago. Good to know you’ve been born with a brain.”

“What I don’t understand is why the Prophecy would say ‘Use me as your own personal noose.’ If they’re referring to the Quill—how does that work? Did someone predict a prophecy about Albus—one that connected him with the Quill? It must have come with an object, because it says ‘use me.’ If this was a Prophecy, then was it made with the Blood Quill?” Scorpius was now thinking aloud. There was no use of thinking in his mind. 

“I told you,” Delphi let out a sigh of boredom, “Draco gave Yann that Quill. He of course, had no idea that Yann only wanted it for me. Those Secret Meetings. Ones that take place down at the Manor? They were about finding me and killing me. Your Dad—bless his Pureblood soul—wanted me dead. Naturally, I’d escaped Azkaban a few months ago, but no one’s noticed. I reckon it’ll take a few more months for the Dementors to have finally caught on. Of course—your Dad had a feeling a couple of months ago that I had escaped. In the summer. Recruited all his old Death Eater friends—including Yann and his family. Wanted to speak to them. His scar was burning. The one on his forearm. So he and his friends tried—and so terribly failed to work together to find me. Of course, no one knew that a few of his Death Eater friends were still…well Death Eaters. Yann and his family of course were on my side as well as a few others including MacMillan and Yaxley. Two valuable families of the Sacred Twenty Eight. Now that I am thinking about it, I remember Yann telling me the loyalty of those fell with me rather than your father. Poor Draco. Wanted to take it upon himself to capture me. To shield you from me. He’s doing a great job of that, isn’t he? Look at him, lying on that floor while I choked you and used Crucio on you. He’ll probably snivel once he hears how useless he’s been. What kind of father is he, I wonder—”

“SHUT UP!” Scorpius exploded. “SHUT UP ABOUT MY DAD!”

“Ahh,” Delphi smiled. “So he’s another soft spot, is he?”

She floated away from him, enjoying taunting him. She walked around the room, sitting on Albus’s bed. Scorpius moved instantly the second she plummeted to Albus’s mattress. I reckon that needs washing now. He thought to himself. She bent her head back, gazing up at the enchanted, darkened ceiling. Her bloodshot emerald eyes shifted to the ancient paintings hanging on the walls. They were pictures of serpents eating their own tails, looped into circles and of course, there was a picture of Salazar Slytherin himself, who looked grumpy and jaded as ever. Delphi lifted her chin up to gaze out into the dim windows where the waves of the Black Lake collided back and forth, the splashing of the water was a respectful, calming lullaby. Delphi threaded her hands into the Slytherin quilt Molly had knitted for Albus. 

“Must be nice to have a place to call home.” She said quietly.

My home isn’t somewhere. It’s someone. It’s Albus. Scorpius reflected. “Yes it is lovely.” He agreed, his hand creeping towards the brown doorknob. “Shame you’ll never know what that feels like.” He gripped tightly onto his pants pocket, slowly sliding his wand out. 

“How—dare—you!” Delphi thundered, rising to her feet. She waved her hand across her face, and the picture of Salazar Slytherin fell to the floor, the glass of the photograph exploded sharp pieces across the room like piercing diamonds of dangerous confetti. Scorpius crouched to the floor, trying to duck—but he wasn’t fast enough. Pieces of glass pricked his check, the jagged pieces pressed onto his flesh like double-edged swords. He gasped, touching his face. Blood trickled down his cheek. He stared at her in horror. But Delphi clearly wasn’t done with him. She pulled out her wand. “HOW DARE YOU SPEAK TO ME LIKE THIS—”

Albus, think about Albus. He told himself. Keep repeating memories with him. 

“Scorp?”

“Yeah?”

“Shut up so I can kiss you.”

“Now that is something I’d like very much.”

Scorpius had no idea what he was doing, but decided to proceed, nevertheless. He twisted the doorknob open—and to his astonishment, it creaked open. He took one look at Delphi whose eyes bulged in rage, and one mournful look at his Dad, and bolted out the door. I’m sorry Dad. I’ll come back for you. I promise. She can’t kill you, Dad. She can’t kill you since we’re part of the Sacred Twenty Eight.

Scorpius sprinted out of the door, dodging sparks of lightning—one spell hit his spine as he exited the room, although he was unsure which spell that was—since he did not feel any pain when it had slapped onto his back. Even as Scorpius exited the Boy’s Dormitory, he could not pretend he did not hear Delphi roar something so terrifying—enough to puncture his heart in two.

“SCORPIUS COME BACK HERE! COME BACK THIS INSTANT OR I WILL KILL ALBUS! DO YOU HEAR ME? I’LL KILL HIM!”

He ran down the marble staircase, leaping into the party of Slytherins, all grinning and nodding at him while hoisting their drinks.

“RUN!” Scorpius yelled. “RUN DELPHI’S HERE!”

“Who’s here?” One of the boy’s asked. “You okay, Malfoy?”

“NO!” Scorpius felt like he was going to sob. “GET OUT OF HERE! ALL OF YOU! DELPHI’S HERE!”

“Get out? Why? Mate, I can’t understand—who’s here?”

Was Scorpius speaking a different language? How come they couldn’t hear him? How come they couldn’t hear him whenever he said Delphi’s name? Was this a joke?

“DELPHI!” Scorpius screamed again, panic climbing in his lungs. “DELPHI’S GOING TO KILL ALBUS!”

“Going to kill?” The boy with the purple hair repeated, setting down his Firewhiskey. “Who?”

“DELPHI!”

“Ah you’ve lost me again.” He turned away from him.

“No—please listen—”

But the boy with the lavender hair just looked at him as if he were in another planet and continued dancing with his friends, shrugging at them.

“Reckon the bloke’s had too much Butterbeer.” He muttered.

One of the girl’s beside him laughed a little too hard, blushing. “Or too much fun with his new boyfriend.”

“They are pretty good together, aren’t they?” 

“Mmm.”

Scorpius moved away from him, and searched for Felina and Rita—the two lovely girls who had defended Scorpius and Albus from the homophobic students. Maybe they’d listen to him! Now, where were they? Ah there they were! He spotted them! They were away from the chaotic party, at the side of the room, both were sleeping on one of the leather couches, embracing one another as they snored. They looked so comfortable and at peace. He wondered how they could be sleeping during all of this music. He noticed a floating bubble which separated them from the rest of the Slytherins and figured they must have charmed it, so they would not be able to hear the bellowing music. 

Scorpius ran out of the Slytherin dormitory, twisting his head behind him, positive that Delphi was a matter of seconds away—right at his toes, but she was nowhere to be sight. He climbed out of the portrait hole, hiked up the staircases and ran into the empty corridors. 

“ALBUS!” He screamed in the hallway, until his throat seared like the ashen flames of a reborn phoenix. “ALBUS SHE’S HERE! IN THE CASTLE! D-DELPHI!” 

“Ow.” Scorpius gasped, touching his hand where he was once bleeding before. He peered down at it, seeing the word traitor carve onto his skin. “W-what?” He muttered. “ALBUS, DELPHI IS HERE!” He yelled again, running through the hallway, wondering why no one paid any attention to him. He glanced at his hand again and noticed the word traitor was now opening and gashing with blood. What, for the love of Dumbledore, was going on? No one heard him whenever he said Delphi or Albus’s name. Of course! Delphi had jinxed him! She jinxed the name of Albus and Delphi so whenever Scorpius would say their names, no one would hear him, and as a punishment, that word would bleed onto his skin. This was horrible, dark magic. 

He turned into the darkened hallway, exhaling in relief when he realized he was just a few feet away from the Hospital Wing.

Albus burst out of the Hospital Wing, his hands stuffed into his Slytherin robes, looking at though he had just had a family fight by the sour look on his face.

He turned at the sight of his boyfriend, pasting on a smile that did not match his troubled face. “There you are.” He murmured. “I’ve been waiting for you.”

“ALBUS!” Scorpius cried, ignoring the penetration he felt on his hand. He suspected the word traitor was being redrawn on his hand, but he didn’t care. He ran over to Albus, determined to hold him—to stroke his hair, to kiss him on the lips, thankful he was unharmed by Delphi. He was going to tell him—warn him of Delphi’s whereabouts. He was going to tell him to get his Dad and have everyone clear the school and enter a safe zone. He was prepared to embrace him tightly but to his astonishment, Albus backed away from him at once—as if he couldn’t stand to be touched by him.

“Hey,” Scorpius said gently, raising his hands in the air like surrender. “What’s going on with you?”

“Nothing.” He said coldly. “Got a lot of stuff going on.”

Scorpius studied Albus’s pale face, sunken eyes and finally to his collarbone, freezing when he noticed the gleaming object dangling on Albus’s neck. 

It was a Timeturner.

“Why,” Scorpius began, “for the love of Dumbledore are you carrying that? Where’d you get that? Who gave it to you? Was it Yann again? Where’d you get that?”

“Calm down—”

“Put that away right now!” Scorpius ordered.

“I think we ought to use it.”

“Are you ill?” 

“No,” Albus countered, “are you?”

“Albus, for obvious reasons, I am not a fan of Timeturners.” Albus was being so unbelievable. He felt like they were a married couple the way they were bickering. The idea of being married to Albus made butterflies glide in his chest. “Honestly, how did your Dad see you with that on and not have a fit?”

“Get away from me!” Albus growled, moving away from him.

“Hold still!” Scorpius insisted, trying to place his hands onto the Timeturner, astonished at his boyfriend’s odd behaviour. Perhaps the Timeturner was possessing him? That had happened with Uncle Ron when he had to wear the Horcrux. It had caused him to say bad things and to act out. At least that’s what Albus had told him. Perhaps this was the same thing. Perhaps it was the Timeturner that was causing Albus to act so strangely and out of character? 

Albus watched Scorpius’s hands struggle to reach the luminous, antique object, a sneer of accomplishment and pride were pinched onto his shining, sturdy visage. His midnight hair was now changing colours like the autumn leaves. Albus’s hair was no longer shaggy and black, but dissolved into oily grasses of dark red, tied into a familiar, confident ponytail. He perked up a few inches taller and his face was callous and forbidding as ever. The most frightening part of all was when Albus’s handsome face transformed into Yann Frederickson’s seething expression. 

“You’re gullible, do you know that?” 

Scorpius cupped his hands onto the Timeturner, and a breath of air escaped his lungs, realizing who it was simply by the cruel tone of voice. He didn’t even have to turn his head to know it was Yann. But it was too late. The minute Scorpius had draped his fingers onto the glossy golden Timeturner, there was a loud SWOOSH.

Scorpius Malfoy disappeared.

That was no ordinary Timeturner.

It was a Portkey.


	12. Within the Wing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> TRIGGER WARNING: MENTIONS OF SELF INFLICTION/CUTTING

Albus awoke from the Hospital Wing with a start. He thought he heard a scream. It sounded a lot like Scorpius. The scream he heard…it was penetrating…nearly enough to make glass burst. It sounded real. It had to be. Or was he only imagining things? The scream wasn’t painted in a recent nightmare or anything. It certainly not as vivid as one of those horrid dreams. It was…just a thought, almost like second nature. It was a perilous feeling that diseased his mind like venom. 

Albus wiped his exhausted eyes and ran his fingers through his slovenly hair. He peered around the room, not quite sure where he was for a moment. Like an old habit, he rolled to his left, expecting to see the enchanting, slumbering face of his breathtaking boyfriend—who usually was—and comfortingly so—just a bedside away from him. But to his surprise, the bed next to him was taken by a young girl whose skin was as stunningly dark as chocolate. She had long wavy black hair that drooped over onto her eyes like a wet paintbrush. Albus only recognized her by sight. She was one of the many girls who was part of his sister’s circle of friends who often followed Lily around like a lost Pygmy Puff. He’d always see her lock arms with Lily as they travelled the school hallway giggling about whenever their admirers were in close proximity of them. Zara Zelkora was her name, wasn’t it? Right. It was. Albus remembered her now. Sometimes, Zara would be over at Godric’s Hollow during the holidays, cooped up in the bedroom with Lily and her friends, painting each other’s fingernails with one of those fancy nail polishes Mum would buy them—the ones where the decorations and colours on their nails would dance around their fingertips. Other times, Zara, Lily and the rest of the group would be out in the backyard, playing a competitive game of Quidditch.

Albus lingered his emerald eyes onto her mummified arm. He wanted to offer her his dearest sympathies for her injury, however, she was fast asleep, clutching a stuffed animal of a Hippogriff with her good arm. Clearly, he wasn’t in the Boy’s Dormitory, after all. He was in the Hospital Wing. He blinked, his eyes fixated on the yellow clock hung on the wall. Has an hour really passed already? Was he out for that long? His eyes darted onto the tanned door. How come Scorpius hasn’t arrived yet? He knew Scorpius more than anyone. He knew Scorpius would find some way to check on him. Was he alright? Was the scream he thought he heard real after all? How could it be when he was safe with Draco Malfoy? Surely, Draco would not let anything happen to his own son? Something certainly was not right. He had to get out of here. Now. He couldn’t possibly be of any help to Scorpius if he stayed here for a moment longer. 

He moved his eyes to the bedside drawer, noticing his wand was balanced between the many paperbacks, rolls of bandages, bottles of steaming potions and the goblet of fresh water. He stretched his arm out, grasping his wand and throwing it lazily onto the bed. There was an oiled lantern on the table to his left. The greasy lantern let out a rickety, lavish toot, producing a fine line of light which slipped out like golden smoke, illuminating the familiar faces of his family. James, his Dad, Rose, and his Mom were all scrunched up by one another like porcelain dolls, leaning on each other as they slumbered, snoring soundly. James wasn’t laying on anyone, however. He held his face with his hands as his elbows pressed against the arm of the chair—like Rose—still cloaked in his Gryffindor Quidditch uniform. Startled, Albus jumped back at once. What, for the love of Dumbledore—were they all doing here? What was his entire family doing here? Hang on, someone was missing. Ah Lily. It was probably for the best she was not here. How on earth was she supposed to understand what had happened? The most important question was: why were they all here, anyway? What purpose did that serve him? He did not need an audience to witness the unravelling of his sanity. He did not need them to watch him breakdown. To knit their concerned eyes onto his scratched wrists. Did—did Dad tell them all what was going on? Things had just gone from bad to worse. He couldn’t face his Mum and certainly not his Dad! This was awful. He had to leave the Wing—and quickly. Albus sat up on the bed—ready to leap to the floor and tiptoe out of the Wing. However, the moment he pushed the fleecy blanket from his sweaty body, James’s chestnut eyes fluttered open as if he could somehow sense his brother’s movement. 

Albus immediately froze and stayed put. He quickly toppled himself with the sheets, edging closer to the bedhead, as if that would somehow convince James that he had absolutely no intention of leaving the room. The brothers stared at each other with a rise of perturbation drawn in their gray gazes. Albus was the first to react for he ripped away from James’s concerned gape and began chewing his nails, eyeing the clock skeptically. He splattered fully on the bed, twisting his body into a ball, facing the other way. The last thing he wanted to do right now was talk. James kept his sharp eyes onto his brother, smiling to himself. Albus always looked slightly younger whenever he was sleeping, or when he just awoke after a nap. His hair was frizzled up, sticking to his forehead like cement. He was curled up in a ball like a lethargic feline, hugging his cerulean coloured pillow which was squished into his pale hands like dough, gazing gloomily at the bent bricked walls. 

James’s turned about, seeing if anyone else had woken up. Thankfully, they were all fast asleep. That meant James had a little time to reach out to his brother—to talk to him—properly talk to him—before his parents and Rose started at him. He blinked, unsure how to begin. Was there a certain guideline he had to follow? Was there a script he had to read off of? James was clueless on where to start. How could…how could he miss this? How could he not realize what his brother was doing behind closed doors? James had let this happen…for a year. How could he have not suspected? What could he possibly say to Albus now that would make things better? He was far too late, wasn’t he? He got that stupid feeling again. That feeling when he was just about to cry. No. Hold it together, mate. James warned himself. James’s swore to himself he wasn’t going to let himself get emotional. He already had burst into tears when Rose revealed to him what had happened. In front of Albus, he had to slap on a mask. Crack some jokes here and there. Do whatever he can to make his brother smile. He figured Albus needed that with everything going on. He wasn’t quite sure if Albus wanted to discuss this whole dilemma with him, but he really had no choice now, did he? Albus needed to hear James out. It was important. 

“Hey.” James slurred sleepily, adjusting out of the wooden chair with a big bear yawn, and immersing himself on the bed next to him, rubbing Albus’s scruffy hair with uttermost affection. “How you feeling?”

“Okay.” Albus said softly, without looking up at him, appearing as though he were fascinated by the washed-out walls. 

James wrinkled his eyebrows. “Just okay?” He scrutinized, to his dislike, sounding an awful lot like his Mum. 

“Yes—I…I mean no…”

“You can talk to me.”

“I need to see Scorpius.” Albus said at once, throwing the sheets off of him, and sitting up. “I can’t explain it to you, but I think….I think he’s in danger. I keep getting these…feelings.”

A smile twisted onto James’s face. “Gay feelings?” He winked.

Albus couldn’t help but grin back at him. He knew he was blushing all over. “I’m serious!”

“Nah, that’s our Dad’s Godfather.”

“James,” Albus sighed, “will you listen to me?” 

“Okay. Sorry. Listening.”

“I think Delphi…she’s gotten to Scorp. She’s hurting him.” 

James’s goofy grin evaporated on his face, replaced by a fretful frown. Albus never spoke about Delphi in front of him. The last time Albus spoke about Delphi was only a year ago. James had no idea that Albus was still grappling with what had happened. It’s not because James had never asked him about it, either. It’s because whenever he did ask Albus about it, Albus would always swear he was fine. If Albus was right—if he did somehow know that Delphi, at this present moment, was hurting poor Scorpius, James would do whatever he can to make sure Delphi did not make contact with Albus. Not again. Not ever. He needed his brother safe. James patted Albus’s hand, hoping that would be enough to ease his mind. “Let me wake Dad, and he’ll get someone at the Ministry to take care of it. Right now, you need to take care of yourself.”

“James are you bloody listening to me at all?” Albus exploded. “This is Scorpius, we’re talking about! He’s…he’s my everything! If anything happens to him…if…if she bloody lays a hand on my Scorpius…” The thought alone was enough to kill him. Albus ducked his head down, bursting into tears. He covered his face out of sight from James; he was shaking all over.

James stared at his brother, astonished. He’d never heard his brother speak so…fondly…so passionately about Scorpius. It was obvious. His brother was in love. James quickly wrapped his brother into an affectionate hug with one arm.

“It’s going to be alright, mate.” James muttered, tightening his grip onto Albus, determined to keep him locked in this embrace until he was sure Delphi would not try to come close to his brother ever again.

It took a while but eventually, Albus managed to stop weeping. He wiggled out of his James’ sturdy arms, gazing up at him with his misty green eyes. “I promised him I’d keep him safe.” He rasped.

“You can’t save everybody,” James explained. He reached out, and squeezed his shoulder so tightly, that Albus let out a gasp of pain. “That’s not your job. You can’t beat up on yourself. Sometimes…sometimes people need to save themselves.”

Albus rounded on him, his green eyes shooting knives of animosity. “You’re saying that I need to stay here while Delphi hurts Scorpius so he can learn to save himself?” He inched away from James, as if, in that moment, he could not stand to be in the same room as him. “Is that honestly that you’re implying?”

James backtracked at once. “No!” He cried, appearing bewildered and apologetic as ever. “Bloody hell! That’s not what I’m saying at all!”

“Then what is it?” Albus demanded. “If you’ve got something to say, tell me.”

“I just want you to stay here, alright?” James said with a trace of irritation in his voice.

Albus glared at him. His brother clearly wasn’t making matters any better for him. “Will you stop yelling at me? I can do as I please!” 

“I need you to stay safe, Al!” James lowered his voice, realizing he had been quite loud. “Let me wake Dad. Please, mate. He’ll get the Ministry to round up a bunch of people to search for him…”

“Don’t you get it, James?” Albus exhaled, wiping his cheeks. “It has to be me.”

“What are you going on about?”

“Why do you think I know Scorp is in danger?” Albus quizzed. “Why do you think I can sense he’s in danger?”

James thought hard. “B-because…because…you two have some gay connection?”

“No you idiot.” Albus sighed, shaking his head. “Because Delphi and I…it seems—we have a…it seems—it looks like we…we might have the ability to have access to each other’s lives…thoughts…minds…”

James continued to stare at him sideways. If Albus was saying that he thought he was saying…that would be bad. He couldn’t be saying…that…could he? “You’re barking.” 

“I think…we might…I might…”

“Not another Horcrux.” James tried to smile through the pain but this time he couldn’t. “It can’t be…it c-couldn’t possibly…Al—?”

Albus clipped his finger in his mouth, seemingly deep in thought. “Dunno.” He bounced his shoulders up and down, pretending this question was of no real importance to him. “I doubt we’re connected to such extreme.” He mumbled out a rushed reply. “But r-remember Dad…? He told us he’d have nightmares of Voldemort and then they would actually happen? Most of the time…they weren’t random, unrelated dreams. They were real. Interwoven with reality.”

James’s voice didn’t sound like himself. “Do you get nightmares, Al?”

“Yes.” Albus confessed. “They’re always…a threat. A threat to harm Scorpius. It’s not like I have a lightning bolt on my forehead or anything that hurts whenever she’s nearby.” Albus let out a hoot of uncertainty, hoping James would join in on the laughter, but to his disappointment, James only grimaced. Albus ran his fingers through his dark hair, his shoulders raised in an awkward, uncomfortable posture. “But…it’s something…something she wants to see me. She wants me to go find her. Or else—or else she’ll keep hurting him. I heard him scream, earlier, James. She’s torturing him. She’s torturing him so I can get to him. She’s doing this so I can come to her. Give her what she wants.”

“Well, what does she want?”

Albus’s face shrunk deeper in dread. “That’s the question now, isn’t it?” 

“Listen, whatever she does, don’t go.”

“If you were me,” Albus muttered with a quelling gape, “you would go, too.”

“I would get Dad involved,” James admitted, his brown eyes darting back on Harry. “And that’s exactly what you’re going to do.”

Albus shook his head. “She won’t like that. She’ll kill Scorpius, James! She’ll kill him to retaliate!” He was piled with layers of fear, self-loathing and lost hope all at once. “I’ve got to go.” Albus sat up straight, hoping his brother would help him. “Can you cover for me?” James only glared at him. Albus let out a deep breath, peering down at his brother’s clenched fists, trying to unfold them so he can latch onto his brother’s hands. “Look,” Albus said inaudibly, “you’re worried about me. I get that. But believe me, James. Believe me when I say I’m fine.”

“Like hell.” James scoffed.

Couldn’t James see how important this was? This was priority! Every moment they stay here is another moment Delphi spends harming Scorpius! His strikingly green eyes stuck onto his slumbering parents. Albus was growing more frustrated by the minute. “You all didn’t have to come, you know!” He yelled. “I don’t know why everyone’s here!”

“Easy, Al.” James mused. “Do you know what we have behind me? Your family. See, we’ve got your Mum who is worried sick. Your Dad who is blaming himself. There’s Rose who jeopardized her friendship with you and Scorp just to contact Dad to let him know what has been going on with you...”

“James.” Albus croaked. He slapped his hand onto his forehead with annoyance. Was this really the time? “What are you doing? Trying to make me feel guilty?”

“Hardly.” James said earnestly. “Only am trying to make you pay attention. All you care about is Scorpius right now, which is great, but I need you to lie back down and let the doctors take care of you. Need you to heal. Especially when you say you might have a connection to Delphi. That’s alarming, Al. That’s another reason why you should stay put—”

“Or another reason why I shouldn’t.” Albus chastised.

“Al, please…”

“I can’t, okay?”

“They don’t even know the truth, Al,” James uttered, his voice cracking like lightning, “Mum and Dad…they think someone did this to you. The cuts. They don’t know you did it to yourself…” His voice trailed off.

“And it’s going to stay that way,” Albus declared. “It would destroy them. It would destroy them if they knew.”

“Al, I can’t keep this secret from them,” said James gravely. He removed his arm off of Albus’s shoulder and stared at Albus’s ice cold expression. He knew Albus was now upset with him, but James couldn’t bring himself to hide such a dangerous secret. It was a secret that needed to be released. “I won’t.”

Albus frowned at him. “You’re supposed to be my brother. Supposed to help me.”

“Telling Mum and Dad,” said James slowly, “is me helping you. It’s the right thing to do, mate. I know it’s scary, but you’ve got to tell them what has been going on.”

Terror filled Albus’s body. What would they think if they knew? Would his Dad stand by what he had said to Albus a year ago? Would he say it once more; that there still were times when he had wished Albus was never his son? “NO!” He shouted. “YOU—YOU DON’T UNDERSTAND!”

With that, Harry and Ginny jumped awake, their hands immediately locking into one another, like second nature. Ginny combed her fingers out from her face. Her thick red hair was pulled into a high ponytail. She was dressed in her old blue jeans stitched with her initials; the one that her Mum had knitted her, and had on a yellow sweater that was bright as the sun. Ginny’s large almond shaped brown eyes fixed onto Harry’s, whose expression was ill and deeply tired. The couple stared at each other wretchedly, at a lost for words. They never wanted any of this to happen to their son. They did not want their son in danger. Not again. Harry could not forget the slashes on his son’s wrists. It was Umbridge’s doing for sure. He knew it was. 

“I reckon we ought to speak to Al now,” Harry whispered determinately.

“James is already going at him,” Ginny sighed, clenching onto her husband’s hand. She stared at the faded I Must Not Tell Lies scar carved on his hand. “Perhaps you should speak to him alone? He might be intimidated with all of us in here with him. I’ll speak to him afterwards? I’ll ask the nurse to brew something to put on his forearms. That way, his scars will fade.”

“Some scars,” said Harry quietly, “never leave you.”

They stared at each other forlornly. “I know.” Ginny whispered softly, tracing her long fingers by his clenched fist, and then to his Lightning Bolt on engraved on his forehead. “I know.”

Harry looked away from her, staring at his feet instead. He cleared his throat uncomfortably. “I’m erm, going to go see how the investigation of that Quill is going…”

“Harry, is it wise to leave Albus alone?”

“I won’t be long.” Harry promised, making the teeniest sounds as he got up, slipping by the portrait which was another secret passageway out of the Wing. He knew if he exited through the door, Albus would notice his departure. He did not want Albus to see him leave. He would be back soon, after all. He faced his wife. “I’ve asked him to meet me at Hogwarts.” He shifted his startlingly green eyes at his quarrelling sons. “Think we should stop them from going at each other’s throats?”

Ginny too, got up and stood in front of Harry, taking her brown purse with her. “I wonder if that’ll make things worse for Al.” Ginny bit her lip. She cranked her head back at her sons, both who were so engaged in their fight that they haven’t even noticed that their parents had woken up. 

“How did this happen, Ginny?” Harry sighed in misery. “How did we miss this? We knew Al was upset, but we didn’t know Umbridge had gotten to him.”

Ginny leaned in and pecked a long kiss on her husband’s cheek. “Please don’t blame yourself, Harry.” She told him, cradling Harry into her arms, hugging him gingerly. “We don’t even know if this was Umbridge’s doing…”

Harry always felt at ease whenever Ginny was with him. She always knew how to calm him down. “What are you saying?” Harry murmured, his level of anger and pain simmering down significantly. 

“I’m saying,” Ginny breathed, letting go of him, and staring into his solemn yet beautiful, face, “we don’t know anything right now. Let’s see what the Ministry has found out about the Quill? Once we track down who the Sender is, things will get a little clearer.”

“You’re right,” Harry agreed, walking towards the Portrait. “Best if I leave now.”

“I’ll come with you,” Ginny suggested, staring back at her sons, “it’ll give them time to cool down, anyway. Besides, I need to find Madame Pomfery and ask her to put more of that Draught onto Albus’s wounds.” She walked up to her husband and took his hand. Both parents slipped out of the Hospital Wing. 

Albus glared at his brother and then realized, they’ve been dealing with this all wrong. Shouting at each other solves nothing. Albus lowered his voice. “I am sorry—I didn’t mean—didn’t mean to yell…I know you’re trying to help but…I just—I want you to understand me.”

“Help me understand you.” James reasoned. “I love you, Al. And I know you love Scorpius and I support you both 100%. But before we worry about what’s going on with him—what might be going on with him—I need you to tell me what’s going on with you. How come you never told me, mate?”

“You know why.” Albus said quietly. 

“No,” James voice broke, “I don’t.”

“Because,” Albus scoffed, “you have a life. You have everything. You have friends. Your life is pretty good. Why would I come in and ruin it? I didn’t want to cause you any pain.”

“Al,” James said seriously, “you never do, mate. You can always come talk to me about these stuff. About anything. Honestly, I don’t care that you didn’t tell me. I just…I wanted you to tell someone…anyone! 

“Who? Dad? Mum?” Albus made a disgusted face. “No thank you.”

“How about Rose?” James suggested. 

Albus grimaced. “You’re kidding, right?” He rolled his eyes.

“Right,” James understood, backtracking, “right, she’s your boyfriend’s ex. Got it. Well…you could have told…told…”

“Exactly,” Albus nodded. “I’ve got no one.”

James shook his head. “That’s the thing with you. You keep having this wild idea that you’re always alone. But you’re not. You’re never alone.”

“That just leaves me with Lily.” Albus pouted. He looked up at his brother at once. “You didn’t tell her, did you?” There was terror drawn on the lines of his feverish face.

James watched him carefully but said nothing. 

“James,” Albus said impatiently, “does she know?”

“Why does that matter, Al?” 

“Because,” Albus cried, anxiety climbing in his voice after each word, “I’m supposed to be taking care of her, not the other way around.”

James looked away from him. “She knows.” 

“No wonder she’s not here,” Albus whispered, “she hates me.” 

“Nah she doesn’t,” James insisted, “she’s probably off somewhere figuring out a way to speak to you.”

“Yeah right.” Albus snorted.

James stared at him. “You keep thinking Lily is so dimwitted—”

“That’s not true!”

“You don’t give her enough credit, Al.” James murmured. “That girl kicks arse.” He sounded like a proud father the way he spoke so fondly of Lily. “Listen,” James carried on softly, “only four people know about your cutting: me, Scorpius, Rose and Lily. And none of us hate you, alright?”

“Why’d you have to go tell Lily?” Albus covered his face in shame, and fell back on the bed, scurrying to the left of the bed, taking the pillow from off of his head and stuffing it into his arms, squeezing it tightly with the roof of his nails. James watched his brother incredulously. He was so dramatic sometimes, it took James all his effort to not manage out a laugh. He did, however, crack a small smile.

“Why does it bother you so much that she knows?”

Albus peered over his shoulder. “Because,” he wallowed, sliding his body up against the bedhead, his face as cold as ice, knotted with immense remorse, “what kind of big brother am I now?”

James rubbed his chin, placing his hand on Albus’s knee. “Still a pretty damn good brother.” He smiled. James glanced away from Albus, ducking his head. “Far better than me.” He muttered quietly.

“That isn’t true, James.”

“How did I not know, Al?” James whispered. “I’ve failed you.”

“No,” Albus said defensively, “I’ve failed me. Do….d-do Dad and Mum know…?”

James ran his fingers through the dark locks of his hair, seemingly wanting nothing more to do with this conversation. His eyes kept running away from Albus’s intense gaze. “They’ve got the idea that Umbridge did this to you.”

“Umbridge?”

“Yeah,” James offered him a smile. “Mad, right?”

“It’s best if they hold onto that theory for a little while.” Albus’s shoulders relaxed. “It’ll give them peace of mind.”

“Their minds are far from peace right now!” James cried. “Al, you’ve got to tell them. They’re worried SICK! Have you got any idea what they’ve been through?”

“What about what I’ve been through?” Albus countered. “They had to have someone smother me with a Sleeping Draught because I kept fighting them…d-d-didn’t want Dad to see my s-s-cars…a-a-and now Dad’s got the whole family up here to see how messed up I am.” Albus stared down at the bandages that was wrapped around his forearms, too scared to meet his brother’s eyes. Embarrassed, he pulled the blanket closer to his skin, making sure his arms were covered with the blue sheets.

“You’re not messed up.” James promised, keeping his brown eyes onto Albus’s arms which were layered with the blanket. “Al?” He spoke up. 

“Don’t.” Albus drawled. “Please.”

“Al, I only want you to look at me.”

Albus stared at his brother. “I don’t want an audience. I want them all to go away. I just—I just need Scorpius. He’s all I ever need. He doesn’t look at me like I am broken. He looks at me like I am me. He sees me as I am. Not as some broken little child.”

“No one’s looking at you like that.”

“You are.”

There was a throbbing silence.

“Al, I’m just—I’m sorry, mate. The truth is, I’m worried about you.”

“Don’t be.” Albus said flatly. “There’s no need to be.” 

“Dad said you’ve some kind of Quill? He reckons Umbridge gave it to you.”

“What?”

“But I know that’s not true. I know you found the Quill yourself and y-you’ve been…been using it to—to…”

“It’s really nothing.” Albus tried to convince him. “Everyone’s making a big deal about this, and it’s making it worse…”

James raised his eyebrows. “What do you mean ‘worse’?”

Albus propped his shoulders up and down. “I-it just…makes me…want to do it even more now…”

Panic filled his body, but he did his best to make sure it didn’t show on his face. “Where’s the Quill, Al?” James questioned. He’d do whatever he can to make sure Albus never found comfort in hurting himself with that horrible Quill. 

Albus closed his eyes, deeply tired of all of these questions that stabbed onto his soul like sharp arrows. “Dad has it, I think. Said he wanted to do an investigation to see who sent it to me. But I already know who sent it to me, I just don’t think it’ll be wise to give out the name of who did it.”

“You know who sent it to you?”

“Of course.” Albus opened his eyes, meeting James’s bewildered, concerned glimpse. Maybe this will get his brother to shut up. To realize the enemy has always been in close proximity of James. “Yann.”

James’s jaw dropped. “The tall redhead bloke who plays Quidditch me?”

“That would be the one.” Albus mumbled. His eyes were locked on the wooden door. “Now. Can I go now?”

James ignored his brother’s question. “YANN DID THIS?” He repeated. He was contorted with so much animosity, Albus was sure he would obliterate into a million pieces. James clenched his teeth. “ONCE I GET MY HANDS ON HIM, I’LL KILL HIM!”

“And what good would that do?” Albus probed. 

“What?”

“How will that change things for me? You kill him. Get chucked in Azkaban.”

“I just—I’m sorry! I am only saying that I’ll kill him. I won’t actually do it. I know what the consequences would be. It’s just—he needs to pay for what he did!”

“He already did.” A small beam twitched on the corner of Albus’s mouth. “Scorpius beat him up.” He said proudly, feeling jitters all over his heart. 

James leapt up, shaking his head. “That little blonde boy beat Yann up?” He looked quite impressed. “Are you serious?”

“Nah, that’s our Dad’s Godfather.” Albus smiled.

James grinned and sat back down. “Shut up.” He smirked, pulling him into a lazy hug with one hand. He noticed—once Albus had mentioned Scorpius, he was smiling again. So that was the key to it all. It was Scorpius who made Albus remember how to smile again. Scorpius obviously couldn’t erase Albus’s suffering and he certainly could not make Albus stop cutting. Only Albus could do that. Albus was the only one who could stop the cutting. He had to find it within himself to stop. But Scorpius…Scorpius made him smile, and that counted for something. James figured it would be best to change the subject. To talk about something that had put a beam on his brother’s face. He’d take care of Yann, surely. He just won’t tell Albus about it. He kept his hand on top of Albus’s. “So…you and Scorpius Malfoy?” He sang. “When did that happen?”

Albus grinned, thrilled to change the subject and to talk about something that actually brought him happiness rather than pain. His face changed immediately; his eyes were glimmering in happiness. “Hours ago, actually.” He responded smoothly, recalling their first kiss, how intimate that was. How that was the beginning of something so wonderful and real and special. Albus turned redder, gazing down at his feet. “He’s a wonderful kisser.” He gushed, feeling himself getting lost in the beautiful tangles of thoughts. 

“Bloody hell. You two snogged already?” James winked. “Where?”

Albus snorted. “What do you mean ‘where?’”

James leaned closer to Albus, clearly engaged in the conversation. “I mean where did this kissing take place? On…the…bed?” He laughed.

“No!” Albus fumed defensively.

“Look at you blush!” James teased. “You wish it was on the bed…” 

Albus burst into laughter. “Oh shove off!” The thought of kissing Scorpius Malfoy on the bed was now a thought he had trouble shaking away. Not that he would ever admit that to James. 

“Come on…where did you and your boyfriend snog?”

“The…library.”

“WHAT NERDS!” He howled with laughter, drying his eyes, dodging each time Albus tried to push him off the bed. “I can imagine it already. Scorpius finds a fascinating book. You quote the bloody book. You laugh. He laughs. And then—you two kiss. Am I right?”

“That is not what happened at all!” Albus groaned, taking the pillow behind him, and launching it at his brother, who, without hesitation, ducked it. Albus joined in on the laugher, throwing his head back at the ceiling. 

“Seriously mate,” James murmured, his face winding into a handsome grin, “I am bloody happy for you. About time you two snogged. You two—you two are right for each other.” He pressed his hand on Albus’s shoulder. “I am really happy for you, Al.”

“T-thanks, James.” Albus grinned at him meaningfully. 

“Does Dad know?” James wondered aloud.

“Not quite sure.” Albus admitted. “I mean—I held Scorp’s hand in front of Dad—and in front of Scorp’s Dad. Neither of them said anything.”

“Dad’ll be fine with it.” James reassured him. He noticed his brother’s eyes kept skating over to the door. “How about this? We both go look for your boyfriend.”

Albus’s emerald eyes glowed with hopefulness. “Really?”

“Yeah.” James agreed, leaping out of the bed. As long he accompanied his little brother, things can’t get too bad. Albus threw the blankets off of him, grabbed his wand and bounced off the bed as well, staring up expectantly at James. James paused, stealing a glimpse of the white bandages that were wrapped around Albus’s wounded forearms. Quickly, before his brother could stare any longer, Albus pulled his sleeves down, clearing his throat uneasily. James nodded to himself, understanding. No staring. James mentally cursed himself for making his brother feel worse about his scars. “Wait.” James paused, staring at the empty chairs. Only Rose was left sleeping. “Where the bloody hell are they? Where did Mum and Dad wonder off to?” He turned to Albus. “You stay here. Don’t move. Understand? I’ll go find them.”

James stared to leave the Wing, but Albus pulled him back. “I’m coming with you.”

“Are you mad?”

“Perhaps.” Albus shrugged.

“What if it was Delphi who took them?” James’ voice quivered. “I don’t want you getting caught in that mess.”

“I’m already caught in that mess,” Albus grimaced. “I’m cursed. I’m the cursed child.”

“Stop that,” James scolded. “You aren’t cursed.”

“Albus?” Rose muttered, hiding a yawn.

Albus and James quickly turned around, staring at their cousin who was now at her feet, gazing awkwardly at Albus, who folded his arms across his chest. James wasn’t sure what was going in his brother’s head, but he was surprised that Albus had somehow managed to hold it together. 

“Albus,” Rose whispered, tears filling her eyes, “I never wanted this for you. I never wanted them all to come here. I just—wanted you—want you to be okay.” She walked up to him, her arms opened, but Albus quickly moved back. Rose abruptly froze, putting her arms down and stood in front of Albus, trying to uncover what emotions and thoughts were lingering in his unfathomable expression. 

“I know,” Albus murmured, “what you did was right.”

Rose’s mouth fell open. “Really?” 

“What?” James jumped in at the same time so sure this wasn’t his angry rebellious brother speaking. 

Albus nodded. “As much as I would enjoy using Sectumsempra on you at this very moment—”

“Al!” James hissed.

“Let him finish, James.” Rose insisted.

“Right,” Albus said shortly, looking from James to Rose, “well, as much as I would enjoy using Sectumsempra on you at this very moment, I know what you did was right. I am mad, Rose. Furious. So mad, I can probably kill with my bare hands—”

“Yes that’s not alarming at all.” James chimed in.

“But,” Albus continued on loudly, tired of being interrupted, “the anger I feel…I think it’s just it: anger. It’s easier to direct it at you. But I am not mad at you. I’m mad that Dad knows. That James knows. That my little sister knows. That everyone knows. That I’ve been caught.”

“I’m sorry it played out this way, Albus.” Rose murmured. “Please forgive me. My best interest was you. It always has been.”

“I know.” Albus tried to smile, overwhelmingly tired of holding onto so much animosity and rage. It was quite tiresome and a waste of time. “I-if the situation was reversed, I reckon I would have done the same thing. I would have told Uncle Ron and Aunt Hermione. Or even Dad. Just—someone.”

Rose was mildly surprised. She stared at James, who shrugged. She moved her large copper eyes to Albus’s green emerald irises, raising her thinned eyebrows. “Where are you both off to, anyway?”

“Delphi has kidnapped our parents.” James announced. He pulled out his wand with a mischievous grin. “And we’re going to kick some arse.”

“She hasn’t.” Albus hissed, still walking towards the door, his hand clenched on the handle, determined to leave. He turned to Rose. “We’re just…going for a stroll…taking a breather. I need a minute.”

But before anyone could mutter another word, the door flew open. Albus jumped back at once, and James sprung in front of his brother, his wand raised. Rose, reacted just as vigilantly for she propped her wand in the air. 

It was Draco Malfoy, his arms were lumped over Ginny and Harry Potter. His eyes were barely opened and he was noticeably limping at he walked. He looked like he took a curse to face. His grey eyes were positively languid and he looked deeply befuddled, however, he seemed to straighten a bit the moment he laid his eyes onto Albus Potter. He might have even smiled at him.

“GET HIM TO A BED! QUICK!” Ginny cried. 

Albus, Rose and James moved out of the way at once. However, they kept their wands clenched onto their hands. James ran over to the cot where Albus was sleeping in and gestured his parents to follow him. Harry helped Draco onto the bed and flicked his wand out summoning a goblet of water for Draco. Draco grunted and sat up, rubbing his head and seized the water in his hand and took a long sip. He handed it to Harry, who placed it onto the wooden table. 

“How are you?” Harry questioned, “Well enough to speak?”

“Where’s my son?” Draco rasped. He turned to Albus who still stood by his brother and cousin, watching such a scene unfold. Draco’s eyes, Albus noticed, were gentle, kind of like Scorpius’s whenever he smiled. “You know where he is, don’t you?” Draco probed softly. 

Albus sprinted over to him with James and Rose following right at his feet. Should he tell him the truth? That would make things worse, wouldn’t they? Draco was Scorpius’s Dad. He had a right to know. If this was Harry lying on the Hospital Wing, asking Scorpius where Albus was, Scorpius wouldn’t lie. He would tell him what was going on. He would tell him the truth. That’s exactly what Albus was going to do. 

“The truth is—”

“Don’t answer him, Al!” Harry’s lips snarled with rage, keeping his eyes onto Draco. “How dare you talk to my son?”

“Dad!” Albus cried. “What are you—?”

“You sent him the Quill, didn’t you?” Harry shouted. Draco closed his eyes, pressing his fingers by his temple. He let out a shaky breath. 

“Harry!” Ginny sighed in Draco’s defence, throwing him a sorrowful glance before locking eyes with her husband, outraged by his behaviour. “For goodness sake, Harry. Enough! Where are these accusations coming from?”

“I’ve spoken with an Investigator from the Ministry.” Harry couldn’t stop glaring at Draco. It was obvious. Of course it was Draco’s doing. Draco was one of them. He always would be. Albus was so sure his Dad would commit murder at this very moment. “They’ve traced it back to a Malfoy. I know it couldn’t have been your son. So naturally, it was you.”

“Naturally,” Draco said quietly, his eyes swelled with tears, however, he still managed a courteous smirk. “Naturally.” He repeated. 

“Once a Death Eater always a Death Eater,” Harry spat. There was no pity in his voice. Just uncontrollable ire. He was getting so worked up, it looked like he would faint from all of the anger. “Surprised I haven’t connected the dots myself.”

“Dad.” Albus warned, trying to pull him away from Draco, but did no good. Harry easily shrugged his son’s grip away. “That’s enough.” Albus protested. Maybe it’s best if he just came clean? Told them the truth? Told them that Yann was behind it all? He needed his Dad to stop harassing Scorpius’s Dad. He couldn’t stand it. All of the things his Dad was saying about Draco…it made Albus feel sick to his stomach. “P-please, Dad. He didn’t do it, okay? He would never—” 

“Harry’s right,” Draco’s voice was barely a whisper. “It was me.”


	13. Draco’s Decision

Albus had to hold his Dad back. His burly arms were slinked around Harry’s waist, gathering all the strength he could to seize to him to make sure his Dad could not break free from his hold. Albus was so sure once he released him, Harry would begin cursing Draco with all the spells he could come up with. Not to mention the Unforgivable Curses. He was not sure if his Dad was now capable of using such curses. He didn’t want to find out, either. 

With all his might, Albus heaved Harry backwards, running in front of him before Harry could pull out his wand and attack Draco. Albus was not going to let Harry lay a hand on Draco Malfoy. He knew Draco was lying. He had to be. How could Draco have given Albus the Quill when Albus was fully aware it was from Yann? Unless of course Draco had used a Polyjuice Potion and disguised himself as Albus’s tormentor. But that hardly made any sense, either. 

“Dad, get away from him!” Albus barked, sheltering Draco with his raised hands. 

Albus stood directly in front of Draco, blocking Harry from penetrating through and tackling him. Draco was sitting up on the hospital bed plastered with a repentant grimace as he fiddled rabidly with his wand. It looked like he was debating whether he should attack Harry or not, but, because of the same reason Albus was protecting Draco, he chose not to. That reason, was of course, because of Scorpius Malfoy. There was no way Albus would watch in the sideline as his Dad hexed Draco. Likewise, there was no way Scorpius would forgive his Dad for cursing Harry Potter.

Albus was, without a doubt, protective of Scorpius Malfoy. But he was also protective of Draco. He knew how much Draco meant to Scorpius. He also knew how much Draco had meant to Astoria. Everything he was doing was for his boyfriend, Astoria and Draco himself. Besides, Albus Potter knew Draco Malfoy. 

He knew him far more than Harry ever could. Albus knew Draco was incapable of giving him such a dangerous artifact. It couldn’t have been him. Draco Malfoy was the one who had invited Albus over during the summer. He was the one who brought them piping cups of Snakeweed tea and Cauldron Cakes down at the Manor whenever he saw Scorpius and Albus playing a quiet game of Wizard’s Chess. He was the one who layered them with extra blankets in the coldest of December nights to make sure both boys were warm and unaffected whenever winter’s bitter breath. He was the one who comforted Scorpius whenever he would cry in his sleep when even Albus’s console wasn’t enough. Draco was not a bad person. Albus wished with all his heart that his Dad could see that.

“You want to have a go at him?” Albus challenged, raising his eyebrows, glaring at Harry. “Try me, first.”

“Albus!” Ginny said sharply, astonished at how foully her son was acting. He reminded her very much of Harry when he was fifteen—sardonic, acrimonious attitude and all. “Don’t talk to your Dad like that.”

Harry couldn’t care less about how his son was speaking to him. At that very moment, the only thing that mattered right now was hexing Draco. He was consumed with so much asperity that he nearly considered using Sectumsempra on him. Nearly. 

“Give me an excuse,” Harry gritted his teeth, “not to kill you.”

“Dad—” Albus’s voice quivered fiercely. “S-stop it.”

“James,” said Harry, keeping his eyes sliced onto Draco’s, “take Al and leave the room. Rose. Ginny. You as well.”

“For goodness sake Harry.” Ginny exhaled, visibly fed up. Since when did she have three sons? It was appalling how immature and irrational her husband was behaving. “Look how much hate is clouding your judgement. Will you please take a breather?”

“No!” Harry said stubbornly.

Ginny outstretched her hand for Albus to take, effortlessly surrendering. “Reckon we all need some air.” She took a couple of steps forward, waiting for him to follow. “Al, dear? Walk with me?”

“I’m not leaving Dad alone with Draco.”

Ginny stopped where she was and nodded, quickly understanding. “I’ve made that mistake before.” She rolled her large russet eyes, facing Draco. “Please explain to us what you’re talking about before Harry turns about as attractive as an Erumpent.” 

“You’re going to let him explain?” Harry almost laughed. 

“Yes,” Ginny said hotly, frustrated by her husband’s temper, “and you’ll thank me for it. Move from there, Albus. Harry won’t do anything ridiculous.” She threw Harry a despiteful glance. “Will you?”

Harry said nothing but remained where he was. Albus nodded and swept away from Draco. However, he still remained beside him, sitting on the bed, only inches away from him. 

James walked towards his brother and stood between Harry and Draco, acting as their own personal line of barrier. He then slipped to Albus’s side, followed by Rose who squished her way in on the crowded cot. 

“You don’t suppose Draco was behind this?” James said in a hushed tone so only Albus could hear him. Harry and Draco kept arguing, shooting vile words back and forth, as if it were a contest to see who could inflict the most damage. However, James, unlike Albus, seemed to tune them out. 

Albus kept his eyes sealed on Harry. “Of course not.” Albus whispered back. “He’d never do this.”

“Perhaps he did?” Rose joined in on the quiet whispering.

“What?” Albus glared at her. 

“Perhaps someone threatened him?” Rose murmured. “That’s why he did it?”

“If Scorp could hear you now…”

“I didn’t mean anything of it.” Rose said defiantly. “I am just saying, sometimes people do things not because they’re bad but because they are influenced by someone who is.” Rose smiled with her eyes. “Besides, Scorpius is far too busy kissing you to care.”

Albus blushed at once, drawing away from her twitching simper and scowled at his brother. “James, I am going to kill you…”

James grinned. “I said nothing, mate.”

“He didn’t have to tell me.” Rose gave Albus a smile of satisfaction and touched his shoulder gently. “You did. Just now.” 

Albus’s ears turned crimson. “Oh. Um. S-sorry.” He stammered, hesitant on how to go about this conversation. He didn’t want to hurt Rose so he decided it was best to simply talk about something else. “R-right. U-um. Sorry about…about the Quidditch game…”

Rose smirked. “I don’t care of a bloody game. I care for you.” She beamed at him. “Go on. Talk about Scorpius and his lovely lips. It doesn’t bother me.”

“Lovely lips?” Albus repeated.

“As if you don’t know…” 

“Shove off!”

Rose grinned at her blushing cousin, who beamed back at her. She met eye contact with James who smiled approvingly at the pair of them, thrilled that they were finally getting along. 

Rose glanced at Draco sympathetically. “I just wish your Dad would stop being so harsh on him.”

“Me too.” Albus agreed. 

Draco stared at his hands. He wondered if he should make a run for it or not. He decided, with great defeat to do the latter. If he ran, that would insinuate that he was hiding something. He was through from hiding. He looked up at Ginny and Harry, unsure what to say. 

“Well go on,” Harry said harshly, “tell us what happened.”

“Dad,” Albus groaned. “Will you stop talking to him like that?”

Draco stared at Albus, grateful for such loyalty. Draco couldn’t believe it. He couldn’t possibly stop thinking about it. Every time he looked at Albus, all he could see was the Scorpius’s words floating through the atmosphere.

I loved Albus. It was always Albus.

Draco was so…proud of his son. He was proud of Albus. He couldn’t stop thinking about the pair. How long have they loved each other? Have they been sneaking around all this time? There was so much he wanted to know. So many unanswered questions. 

Draco cleared his throat. “It’s fine, Albus,” He said calmly, sending him a beam of approval. Draco looked up at Harry and the kindness in his voice was replaced by vexation. “Potter’s never been particularly nice to me anyway…”

“Could say the same thing about you.” Harry responded dryly.

James watched the two bicker, clearly looking like he was seconds away from laughing. All he needed was some Licorice Wands to chew on, and this moment would almost perfect. It was quite amusing to watch the pair exchange foul words. It was nearly as entertaining as watching the Quidditch World Cup. 

“Were they really like this at Hogwarts, Mum?”

“Worse,” Ginny shook her head, remembering it all. “Far worse.” She rolled her eyes and stared back at Draco. “Please just tell us what happened. I want to hear it from start to finish.”

“What’s the point of that?” Harry said scathingly. “He’ll just lie.”

“Slip some Veritaserum in my goblet, will you?” Draco insisted. 

“Gladly.” Harry smirked, turning about, facing his family. “Has anyone got Veritaserum? Three drops will do.”

Albus sighed. “No one walks around with that. Unless of course, you’re Snape. You know what? I think it’s insulting what you’re doing. The way you’re speaking to Draco. How you’re so eager to slip the Truth Serum in his cup. You won’t believe a single word that comes out of his mouth! Why, Dad? Is it because he’s a Malfoy?”

“HE’S JUST ADMITTED TO GIVING YOU THAT QUILL!” Harry yelled. “How am I supposed to forgive him or believe anything the man says?”

“He didn’t do it, Dad!” Albus disputed. 

“Stop defending him!”

“Never!” Albus argued. “I don’t like the way you’re treating him! If Scorpius was here…” Albus closed his eyes. “You hate him too, don’t you? Think he’s a Death Eater in training?”

“Al—”

“JUST ADMIT IT!” Albus shrilled. 

Draco stared at Harry, as if he, too, were waiting for an answer. This was the moment of truth. Did Harry hold the same, awful beliefs about his precious boy?

“Al,” Harry said delicately, “Al, listen to me…”

“Wait,” Draco interrupted, “Think you ought to use Veritaserum when you answer this.” He gave Albus a triumphant smile, resting his hand on Albus’s shoulder as he spoke. “Think we both would like to know how you truly feel about Scorpius.”

“We’re getting off topic,” Ginny quickly said, seizing her husband’s arm. “Please tell us about the Quill. Tell us how you are responsible for our son’s scars.”

“Mum. Dad.” Albus croaked. “I-it wasn’t….wasn’t him.”

Ginny and Harry ignored him and faced Draco instead. 

Albus exchanged an uncomfortable look with James who gave him a sad expression. “Sorry mate.” He mouthed. 

“What about the Truth Serum?” Draco muttered.

Harry locked eyes with Albus. “There will be no need for that.” He raised his downy eyebrows at Draco. “Go on.” 

Draco let out a tiresome sigh. “I was getting rid of all of the stuff at the Manor,” Draco susurrated quietly, continuing to rub his head which kept burning like fire, “Throwing away stuff I didn’t like. Things that didn’t matter to me. Donated some to a few friends. The rest I had stored away down at the basement in a trunk. Then I found this Black Quill.” He could feel the air being sucked out of the room once he muttered that line. The only thing he could hear right now was the thumping of his heart. He always stared at people whenever he spoke to them. He was raised that way. However, at this moment, he could not look at anyone. Harry thought he was a Death Eater for goodness sake—and by the looks of it, Harry felt the same way about his son. It didn’t take Harry long to accuse Draco of the unimaginable. Did they think these things about his son, as well? Albus, he knew, didn’t. Albus was not like his Dad. He was nothing like those freaks. But, how could Harry possibly think all of those things? Perhaps they were all bad. He hated them. Hated all of the Potters. It was probably best to reiterate out the story right now. He didn’t want to be here for another excruciating moment. Draco cleared his throat. “Didn’t want anything to do with the Quill so I was going to throw it away, and then this bloke, Yann was his name…” Albus froze immediately as soon as he heard the name of his tormentor. “…was interested in it. Said he wanted to sell it for gold. Told him I was fine with me so long as he kept it away from me and my son. Yes, the Quill was originally mine, but I did not give it to Albus. I gave it to Yann.”

“That’s why the Quill traces back to you.” Ginny said gently. “Because it was authentically yours. It belonged to you and the Malfoy family.”

“Correct.” 

“I-I am part to blame…” Draco admitted, gazing at Albus apologetically and then at Harry. “I did, after all, give the Quill to Yann. If I knew he was going to give it to Albus, I would have never given it to him in the first place.”

“Not your fault.” James assured him. 

“He’s right,” Albus agreed, trying to smile. “You have nothing to be sorry for.”

He hoped now, his parents would leave Draco alone. That they could now see he was innocent, just as Albus had always known. That they would forget about the ruddy old Quill. He never wanted to talk about it again. But in his heart, he knew this was certainly not going to be the last time his parents talked about the Quill. 

Draco appeared frustrated. “I’m sorry, Albus. I shouldn’t have given Yann the Quill. If I had known he would give it to you—?” He let out a long sigh as if he were holding his breath this entire time. He cranked his head over to Ginny and Harry, staring guiltily at them. “I’m sorry. The only reason Albus has those cuts on his forearms are because of me!”

“How do you know there are cuts on his forearms?” Harry asked. 

“What?”

“I said,” Harry said sternly, taking a step forward to him, clenching his wand. “How do you know…that there are cuts on his forearms?”

Draco jumped to his feet, glaring at Harry, his wand pinned to Harry’s chest. “Trying to catch me in a web of lies, are you?”

“Draco!” Ginny hollered. 

But he disregarded her, keeping his silver coloured eyes onto Harry’s, his irises watered with heavy emotion and pain. He pushed his wand further into Harry as he spoke, circling around him as if he were a snake who had just found fresh prey. “In case you’ve forgotten, Potter, I was up there in the Dormitory with you when you found the Quill in your son’s robes. I was there when you demanded Albus to show you his wrists. I. Was. There.”

Harry flickered his eyes onto Draco’s wand, scrunching his teeth. He could feel his wife staring at him. He knew she was probably upset about the way he was handling things. The way both Draco and Harry resorted back to their schoolboy days. But could you blame him? 

“Fine,” Harry mumbled realizing Draco was, after all, right. Draco indeed was there. Harry was just so keen on placing blame on someone. Harry knew he was behaving like a fool. He should have listened to Ginny after all. He should have taken a few breaths. That would have put things into a better perspective. Harry slowly slipped away from Draco, and took a couple of steps backwards, only meters away from Draco, both men continued to stare at one another with great detest. “Fine. You were there. Happy?”

“Far from it.” Draco said.

Harry looked like he was still trying to piece everything together, frustrated that still, after everything, the puzzle did not seem to fit. “So Umbridge didn’t give you the Quill?” He questioned. 

Draco frowned at him. “Umbridge? That ghastly toad-faced brute?” He wrinkled his nose. “Haven’t seen her in ages. Why are you bringing her up?”

“Because,” Harry said impatiently, “she made me use it. She made the DA use it after we were caught orchestrating lessons. Remember? I was so sure Umbridge somehow did this to Al, too…”

Albus met eye contact with his brother. His Dad…? His Dad used the same Quill before, too? But he used it because Umbridge had made him, right? Not because he wanted to? Albus was interested to hear the rest of the story. He wished he would have paid more attention to Harry whenever he would repeat stories of his past. 

“Thank you for telling us the truth, Draco,” Ginny said politely. 

Draco ignored her and continued drumming his wand on his leg distractedly, his head fixed to the door of the Wing.

“What happened to you, Draco?” Albus asked quietly. “Why are you limping?”

“We found him like that.” Ginny said grimly. “He was in the corridors, shouting out for Scorpius.”

Albus felt his heart skip a beat. “How’d you end up there? Thought you two were talking in the Slytherin Dormitories.”

“We were.” Draco admitted, adjusting his posture. He gave Albus a kind beam. “Having a rather good conversation until…”

“Until?” Rose cut in.

Draco glanced at her, as if it were the first time he realized she was here. Draco moved his eyes back at Albus, wondering deeply if Rose knew Albus was gay. If she knew his son left Rose to be with Albus. She truly was a mixture of Weasley and Granger, wasn’t she? She had dark red frizzled hair and a sharp, rather conceited attitude. She placed both hands on her hips, waiting for his response. Although she had a confident demeanor, her eyes were quite warm. That was a quality he knew came from both Granger and Weasley. He now wondered if anyone else looked at his son and assigned attributes to him. Attributes that connected Scorpius to Astoria. Connected Scorpius to Draco. He shook that thought away. What on earth, was he thinking? Of course no one would do that. No one cared about his son enough to give him the time of day. No one knew his parents either, or ever taken any interest to do so. 

Draco rubbed his temple. “Dunno. T-there was a sharp pain in my head. Something came over me. I don’t know what, exactly. And all of a sudden…all of a sudden I see my boy crying on the floor, wanting nothing to do with me. The next thing I know, I wake up in the Slytherin Dormitory floor and my son is missing.”

Albus stared at his brother. He had a fair idea of what had happened anyway. It was Delphi. She got into Draco’s head somehow, tampered with his memories to confound him and then she took Scorpius. He just wasn’t so sure if he should tell Draco all of that. 

Draco merely grunted as he hobbled towards the door. “Now. If you don’t mind, I have to go to look for my son. But he’s a Death Eater like me! So don’t worry yourselves…”

“Draco…” Harry began and tugged at his sleeve to stop him from taking another step. Reluctantly, Draco froze and spun around, cocking an eyebrow in the air. Harry let go at once, staring at his hard expression. He hated it whenever he was wrong. Whenever he jumped to the wrong conclusions. The consequences were quite grisly, indeed. “I…erm…I’m sorry.”

“Funny,” Draco let out a mordant laugh, “…how quickly you accused me and my son of being Death Eaters. You only see me one way, do you, Potter?”

“I don’t.” Harry pleaded. “I swear.” He wasn’t sure if he even meant what he was saying. All he knew right at this moment was that things were certainly getting out of hand. After last year, Harry and Draco had become neutral to one another. They were practically getting along up until Harry ruined everything. To make matters worse, Harry was fully aware of how furious Albus was with him right now. Harry had to make amends with Draco before it was too late. 

“Don’t lie.” Draco seethed. “What was it you said? ‘Once a Death Eater always a Death Eater?” He gibed. “I don’t want my son around you, Potter. I can take it. I can take the insults. But my son—? He can’t. So stay away from me and my son, alright?”

“Draco, wait!” Harry hissed.

“Save it, Potter!” Draco pushed Harry out of the way, and headed for the door. Albus followed his every step. He couldn’t lose Draco. He couldn’t lose Scorpius. He wasn’t going to let that happen. Albus desperately clung onto his arm, pulling him back. 

“D-Draco…” Albus stammered, his eyes were tearing. “P-please…p-please don’t do this.” 

“You want what’s best for him too, don’t you?” Draco said softly. He reached out, and combed his fingers in Albus’s hair; the way he did with Scorpius. Albus froze, surprised by this, and gave Draco a smile of approval. Now why couldn’t his Dad behave this way around Scorpius? Why couldn’t his Dad show Scorpius a shred of respect? Was that too much to ask?

Draco did not want to separate the two boys. But after tonight…after hearing such foul words…such hurtful accusations, Draco knew he had to look at the bigger picture. He needed to shield his son from all of this animosity. He knew Albus probably didn’t understand why he was doing this. He hoped one day he would. Albus…he was like a son to him. Albus was like his son. The realization was enough to make Draco weep. He loved Scorpius and he approved of his relationship with Albus. But…he didn’t want to put his son through such horrid oppression by Harry. Scorpius deserved to much better than that. “I-I’m sorry Albus. I know this is hard for you.” Draco said quietly so Ginny and Harry couldn’t hear him. “My son…is in love with you.”

“So let him.” Albus said in a hushed tone, pretending he wasn’t shocked by Draco’s words. The truth was, inside, Albus was ecstatic. He felt a fire of pride fuming in his chest. He was so proud of Scorpius for coming out to his Dad. This was incredible news! He was so proud of his boyfriend! What’s even better, was, by the looks of it, Draco was on board. He was fine with it! Albus just had to make sure Draco did not push them apart. Albus continued whispering to Draco, knowing his parents were probably confused to what was going on. “Let him love me, and I promise you, I will continue loving him until I die. I will protect him fiercely. I always do. J-just…d-don’t do this. P-please. I am in love with him. You can’t…c-can’t—”

Draco pulled Albus into a quick hug because he couldn’t stand looking at Albus’s horrified, heartbroken face a second longer. “I’m sorry, Albus.” He murmured. “He doesn’t need to hear Potter’s prejudice.” Draco let go of Albus and glared at Harry with all his might. “I’ll always be a Death Eater to you, won’t I?”

Harry shook his head, realizing the damage he had done. He didn’t mean…he didn’t want all of this to happen. He knew how much both boys needed each other. He realized that after he had forced Scorpius and Albus apart last year. He set everything off balance, didn’t he? It was Harry’s time to try to convince Draco of changing his mind. “I…I don’t think rubbish of you…I shouldn’t have thought those things…said any of it. I…I was so upset. Said stupid things that I didn’t mean.”

“Dad does say rubbish. Says things that could practically cut you open,” Albus admitted, still holding onto Draco’s sleeve, “believe me, I would know…”

“Al—” Harry began.

Albus ignored him and smiled sadly at Draco. “A-at least let me come with you…l-l-let me come with you to find Scorp.” 

Draco smiled at him. It didn’t take him long to cave in. “Alright.” 

“Hang on,” Harry said, pulling his shaggy eyebrows together as he stalked over to his son. “Al, who is Yann? He gave you the Quill? I-I don’t understand…”

Albus swallowed a lump in his throat. “Dad,” he said quietly, his eyes stuck on the floor, “now’s really not the time. P-please. Let me find Scorpius first.”

“I erm…” Draco stammered, backing away from Albus, realizing this was a personal family matter. “I-I will go look for my son.”

“I’ll come with you.” Rose volunteered, wanting nothing more than to disappear. She did not want to be here during this confrontation. 

“Me too!” James said at the same time. He and Rose sprinted over to Draco, all were heading to the door. James, however, stopped abruptly and turned to his brother. 

“Unless you’d rather I stay here with you?”

“No.” Albus shook his head. Right now, someone had to go search for Scorpius. Time was of the essence, after all. “Find my—find him.”

“You’ll be okay?”

Albus forced a beam. “Yeah.” He said, not believing the fib himself. 

“I love you, Al.” James reminded him. “You sure you don’t need me to—?”

“Yes.” Albus agreed quickly, shooing him away. “We’re losing time.”

James nodded considerately. He gently pushed Draco and Rose out of the Wing and closed the door shut. Harry and Ginny were left looking feverishly at their son. 

“Now that everyone’s gone,” Ginny said brightly, taking her son’s cool hands and escorting him back onto the bed so he could sit down. “You can tell us the truth.” She wrapped her arm around Albus’s shoulder. She gazed up at Harry, who was standing awkwardly, shuffling his feet, looking as though he were still trying to piece together everything. Ginny moved her huge chestnut eyes to her solemn son and then back at Harry, signaling for him to sit down. Harry nodded, and quickly sat next to Albus.

“Who’s Yann, Al?” Harry asked.

Yann was the last thing on Albus’s mind. Did his parents not realize what had just happened? 

“You made Draco upset!” Albus exploded. “Didn’t you hear what he said? He doesn’t want me to be friends with Scorp! He’s keeping us apart, just like what you did!”

“We’ll fix it.” Ginny promised. “I know how much you two care for each other…”

“I’d kill for him.” Albus said seriously. “I’d do anything for Scorp. I would never hurt him. All I do…all I ever try to do is to protect him.”

“I know, dear.” Ginny said knowingly, exchanging glances with Harry, waiting for him to catch on, but he only turned away from her, still noticeably upset with the turn of things. "I assure you, we will fix it."

“But what if you can’t?” Albus countered. “What if—?”

But he was interrupted by a vicious voice. 

I am going to ask you one more time, dear Scorpius. Delphi’s wand was pressed against Scorpius’s bowed head. Tell me where I can find your dear boyfriend.

I told you… Scorpius panted. I…don’t…d-don’t…know…

Scorpius’s sunken face was bloodied and beaten. His grey eyes kept fluttering shut. He was on all fours, looking up weakly at Delphi’s crazed expression, while the hooded figure stood beside her, his fingers clenched together.

No use. The hooded figure groaned. He won’t give in. I say we kill him.

NO! Delphi screamed. He’s part of the Sacred Twenty Eight. I must not spill his blood. She spun around, clearly unamused. How many times must I use the Cruciatus Curse on him? I must say, I am getting quite bored.

The hooded figure grinned. Let me try, then. 

Very well. Continue torturing him.

No…

The hooded man raised his wand.

There was a green flash. 

CRUCIO.

Scorpius screamed in pain. His body violently shook. The pain was too much. He wanted out…wanted out so badly. He wished he wasn’t part of the Sacred Twenty Eight. He wanted the pain to stop. He’s never felt a pain like this before…

Um…Delphi? The hooded figure kicked Scorpius’s limp body. Think he’s dead.

No…

DEAD? Delphi let out a cackle of laughter. Did the poor lad take one too many curses?

NO.

What do we do? The hooded figure poked Scorpius with the stick of his wand. We cannot just leave him here…they’ll trace it back to us.

He isn’t dead you pathetic fool! Delphi pushed the faceless man away and Delphi loomed towards Scorpius. He can’t be. He’s part of the Sacred Twenty Eight. I must not lose someone so pure. Hm. Seems you’re right. Well. Albus will be in for a little surprise once he sees what has happened to his dear boyfriend. 

NO! Albus screamed. HE’S NOT—HE CAN’T BE! CAN YOU HEAR ME? LET HIM GO! LET HIM GO NOW!

Delphi stopped walking and smirked. Ah, Albus. How kind of you to join us. 

How on earth were they communicating?

IS HE—?

Not yet. Delphi grinned. But he will be soon. You want me to spare him? 

YES…YES PLEASE. Albus pleaded. 

Very well. Go to the Slytherin Dormitory and you will find a Portkey. You have one hour.

He’s not dead? 

Of course not. Delphi grinned. Do you not get it yet, Albus? I only show you what I want you to see. But Albus? If you bring Harry Potter or anyone of that matter, I can promise you, he will be. 

I won’t. 

“ALBUS!” Ginny bellowed, shaking her son’s shoulders. “ALBUS SEVERUS POTTER!”

Albus quickly looked up. His face was covered in sweat mixed with uttermost fear. “M--Mum?” He blinked away the tears that stained his cold cheeks. He turned to Harry. “D-Dad?”

“What came over you?” Harry touched his son’s face gingerly. “Y-you’re…you’re crying!” Harry was absolutely terrified by his son’s odd behaviour. Harry wrapped Albus into a hug, squeezing him so tightly, Albus was sure he would pass out. “You were screaming.” Harry carried on, hauling his son closer. “Telling someone to let go of ‘him?’ Is this about Scorpius? Where has he gone? You were talking about someone being dead? Was that a nightmare? Was that Delphi?”

Albus slowly pulled away from him and faked a smile. “Delphi? What? Dad, no! Of course not. It was hardly anything.”

“Didn’t look like that to me.” Ginny pressed her hand on Albus’s forehead and then his neck. “Your temperature is piping up. Perhaps I should call Madam Pomfrey back in—?”

“My head…it gets messed up sometimes is all…”

“Al, if something’s going on with you, now is your moment to tell me.” Harry clutched his son’s hand. “I’m concerned.”

“I-it’s nothing…” Albus tried desperately to formulate a lie. He couldn’t think properly. He was overwhelmed with everything going on with Delphi and Scorpius. What could he possibly say? What could he say that would excuse his abnormal behaviour? “I think I’ve been…erm…hallucinating.”

Harry was dumbfounded. “Hallucinating? 

“Yes.” Albus lied. “I erm…I need to go now…”

“Albus,” Ginny said seriously, “We’re not letting you out of our sight. Understand? Now. Lie back down while I get Madam Pomfrey.”

Albus held his stomach weakly. His lying skills were beyond excellent. “I-I think I am going to throw up.” He jumped to his feet, trembling. “I’ll…I’ll be back. I-I promise.”

“Son…”

“Unless you want me to puke all over you.” Albus said hurriedly and broke into a run, and loped out into the corridor. 

Ginny gasped in surprise, and met eye contact with Harry, who jumped to his feet, his mouth half opened, both parents trying to comprehend the sudden turn of events.

“What just happened—?”

“Ginny, we’ve got to go.” Harry said urgently, grabbing her hand. 

Albus sprinted over to the marble staircases, hiking up the steps. He wished with all his might that he was seventeen. That way, he could just Apparate into his bedroom. He needed to get to the Slytherin Dormitory quickly. He didn’t have much time. Albus knew it was going to be a matter of minutes before his parents chased after him. Of course, he didn’t really have to throw up. He just needed to get out of the Wing to find his boyfriend. The thought of Scorpius’s dead body…n-no…n-no. Don’t think about that! Albus scolded himself. Hang on. Why was he going up the stairs? He needed to head down to the Dungeons. Albus let out a curse word and jogged back down the steps. He stopped midway when he recognized his parents at the bottom of the staircase, hollering out his name with a rise of panic.

“Damn it.” Albus moaned, and dashed back up the stairs. 

With his parents at his tail, it was going to be quite a difficult task to avoid them. If only he could tell them the truth. The thing was, if Albus told them about Delphi, there would be no way they would let him go alone to confront Delphi. Harry would make sure he accompanied Albus and doing so would result in the demise of Scorpius Malfoy. He couldn’t possibly explain all of this to his parents. They wouldn’t understand. Albus had to do this all on his own.

Albus peered down the staircase. His parents were still calling out his name. Albus closed his eyes, pretending he couldn’t hear the desperation and utter terror plagued in their cracked voices. He opened his eyes once more, watching Ginny stop a passing student. He knew she was asking her about her son’s whereabouts. His Dad looked like he was on the verge of tears while Ginny appeared as if she were ready to kill. 

“It’s Delphi!” Albus heard Harry explain to his wife. “It’s got to be her. Must have gotten into his head somehow.”

“How do you know for sure?”

Harry touched the lightning bolt on his forehead. “Trust me. I know.”

Albus moved away from the staircase. Thinking quickly, he plucked out his wands from his robes. “Accio Marauder’s Map!”

It took several agonizing seconds, but eventually, the ancient, tattered brownish yellowish map floated towards him, inches away from his nose. “Thanks, Granddad.” He muttered gratefully as he caught hold of the legendary parchment, cupping it cautiously in his hands.

He bit his lip, examining the map, his green eyes skating over to the dungeons and then to the spot where Albus’s footsteps were. He had to plan his moves accordingly. The last thing he wanted was to wind up face to face with his fuming parents. It looked like if he slid into the Silver Bearded Witch Passageway that would lead him straight down to the Slytherin’s Dormitory. The problem now, of course, was finding that bloody portrait. He moved to the right, his fingers grazing against the aged walls. He stopped abruptly at a smiling witch with the finest, shiniest silver beard he had ever seen. She was wearing a tall pointed purple hat and an extensive, extravagant rosy, greenish dress so vastly enriching, it dawned down to the floor like a tongue of red carpet. The dress was ruffled right at the belly of the gown as well as the tight shoulders of the dress. She was deniably beautiful. Her straw greyish, blonde hair was tied into an eye-catching bun. There was something quite compelling and awe-striking about her silver beard which was nicely clipped at the ends with a big grassy bow. 

The Witch smiled hugely at him. “Good evening, Albus Severus.”

Albus was flabbergasted. “You know who I am?”

“Certainly,” She grinned. “Dumbledore and Snape talk about you quite a lot.”

“D-Dumbledore? S-Snape?” Albus stammered, leaping away from her. This was the last thing he had anticipated. The two men he was named after were talking…actually talking about…about him? What did they say? Did they say particularly nice things about him? Or were they disappointed in him? He quickly regained his confidence, walking up to her, his face very close to hers. “Where are their portraits?” He was hit with sudden excitement at the pit of his stomach. “What have they been saying? Do they like me? Where can I find them?”

The Witch shook her head at him. “I’m afraid, dear boy, I mustn’t tell you. You must find them on your own.”

“Let me guess,” Albus rolled his eyes. “Dumbledore made you say that? Dad always said he was full of riddles…”

“It would seem, you are a riddle yourself, dear boy.” The Witch told him.

“Me?” 

“Yes.” The Witch stroked her long fantastic beard as she paced around the portrait, turning her head to glance at swarm of soaring electric blue pixies with leering, pointed faces, appearing to be chatting nosily with one another as they flew through the crooked forest, dodging the overgrown green willows and gnarled roots of Dittany. 

She took a seat on her cushioned couch, plucking a purple Larkspur flower from her the fresh dirt and smelled it. She offered it to Albus who shook his head, disinterested. She smiled at him and placed the flower on the hem of her dress. “Do you really think you ought to head down to the Dungeons? Would it not be prudent to go find your parents instead?”

“Look,” Albus sighed, “you seem great, and I would like to talk to you again when my boyfriend’s life isn’t at stake, but…I need you to let me in. I need to go to the Slytherin Dormitory immediately so I can—”

“Find Riddle’s daughter?” The Witch inquired, her fingers now lifting up the Larkspur and folding it in her smooth, silky hands.

“How did you—?”

“I am wise.” The Witch bragged. She gave him a soft glance. “And I know, dear Albus, you are too. Make the sensible decision.”

“I am.” Albus insisted. “I am saving Scorpius.”

She tilted her head. “Is that the wise decision or the wrong one?”

“Wise.” Albus vowed, although now he was troubled with doubt. He knew the Witch could sense this by the sorrowful gaze she gave him. “I-I am doing what my Dad would do if he were me.”

“You think that’s what makes him so judicious?”

“I-I need to find Scorpius.” Albus tried to explain to her. “She’d kill him if I brought my parents into this. I need to do this on my own. My Dad…he was always alone when fighting Voldemort. I mean, yeah, he had Ron and Hermione, but I don’t have that. I only have Scorpius. And Scorpius needs my help. So it has to be me.” 

She licked her blue lips as she touched the Larkspur. “Beauty can deceive you. I must warn you not to go looking for trouble…”

“I am trying to help my boyfriend out of trouble.” Albus corrected.

“’Help will always be given at Hogwarts to those who ask…for it.’” The Witch quoted, hoping this would be enough to convince him otherwise. 

Albus pretended such a quote was so easy to disregard. “Please open the door.” 

“Very well.” The Witch sighed, rising from her couch. “You may enter.” 

The Portrait Door swung open, and Albus snaked his way inside the dark passageway with his wand grasped in his hand. 

He grunted and squirmed out of the constricted Passageway, meeting the two rather annoying blokes who were on the red seesaw. The boy with the fizzy orange hair kept tackling the boy with the greasy brown hair to the floor who kept pushing him back. This whole scene made Albus quite uncomfortable.

“Hey!” Albus shouted. “Leave him be, will you?”

The orange haired boy stopped what he was doing immediately and faced him. The boy with the greasy brown hair laughed nastily and turned to him as well. 

“Mind your own business, will you?” The brown haired boy yelled. He sprinted over to the front of the portrait, his eyes wild with deepest and purest contempt. His bloodshot eyes were bulging with anger. “Don’t need filthy blood traitors like yourself to defend me!”

Albus couldn’t tell which bloke was worse: this brown haired freak or the orange haired bully. They both seemed equally despicable. Albus really needed their portraits to be moved elsewhere. He couldn’t stand them!

“Just let me in.” Albus rolled his eyes. “Long Live Purebloods.”

The boy with the orange hair grinned. “Long Live Purebloods indeed.”

The door swung open and Albus ran inside, expecting everyone to be fast asleep. But to his surprise, the Slytherins were still having their party. Were they not tired? Were they unaware that they had classes in the morning? Who could party so much? Maybe everyone can and Albus was just not like the rest of them. Albus always did stand out, after all. He was always different from the rest of the crowd. 

Albus pushed through them and was inches away from running up the staircase when an arm grabbed him, pulling him into the crowd of dancing students.

“Your boyfriend’s been looking for you.” The boy with the lavender hair said, taking a loud sip from his Butterbeer.

Albus’s eyebrows shot up. “Has he?”

“Yes,” He nodded. “Poor bloke looked kind of frantic when he came down the stairs. Saying something about ‘kill?’” His eyes skated around the silhouettes of Slytherins giggling and dancing about. “Have you found him yet?”

“No.” Albus said, stumbling away from him, “b-but I will. T-thanks.” He moved away from the purple haired teenager and raced up the stairs.

The Dormitory was a massive mess. 

It looked like their room was turned inside out. The inks, parchments and quills were thrown recklessly on the floor. Clothes of all kinds were scattered on the floor like melted snow angels. The brown wardrobe of the room was slanted as if someone had been thrown into it, causing it to fall backwards. The portrait of Salazar Slytherin was flung onto the floor, the picture demolished and scratched as if by an invisible claw, on the frowning face of Salazar. Tiny pieces of sharp glass from the broken portrait were dripped on every edge of the ground, like a hazardous trail of mass destruction. What had happened here? What did she do to Scorpius? Wait. One of the items was a Portkey, like Delphi had said. Now all he had to do was look for it. 

Albus scrambled on all fours, touching each side of the broken charred glass. None of which were Portkeys. He examined each of the quills on the ground as well as the parchments. Finally, he rose to his feet and touched the Salazar’s portrait, so sure this was it, however, once he touched it, there was nothing. How was he supposed to find the Portkey under an hour?

Hang on.

Was he a wizard or wasn’t he?

“Accio Portkey!” Albus cried, kicking himself for not thinking of the summoning charm sooner. 

The Slytherin Quilt that Molly had knitted Albus floated towards him. Albus felt like he couldn’t breathe. This was….this was the Portkey? This beautiful quilt which was created by love has now been blackened with dark magic, touched by Voldemort’s daughter? How could she—? How could she do this to him? That quilt was something of so much value and sentiment. Thinking about it now, that was probably the core reason why Delphi had chosen that possession of Albus to turn into a Portkey. 

All he had to do was touch it and he would be face to face with Delphi. He hadn’t seen her in a year. This…this should have been easy. It should have been like second nature to just seize the quilt. But it wasn’t. Why was Albus hesitating? Why didn’t he just grab the quilt? He couldn’t…couldn’t do it. Albus didn’t want to see her, but he knew he had to. For Scorpius. The truth was, he was terrified. But now certainly wasn’t the moment to overthink. He had to face her. Face his Boggart. 

This was it.

There was no turning back.

Albus took a long breath and nodded. He kept his wand curled in his fingers, and with his left hand, he slowly touched the quilt.

There was a loud CRACK and Albus vanished. 

Within a few minutes, Albus was slammed onto the ground, throwing the quilt as he fell. He grunted, looking up at the unfamiliar territory. He touched the hard floor with his hands, noticing it was cool as ice and was quite wet as well. It appeared he was at a sewer of some kind? Where, for the love of Dumbledore, was he? 

The constricted room was boarded with many concrete grey barriers and walls that were short and stumpy, but without a doubt, unbreakable as steel. It was a dimly lit space that had silver cobwebs hanging from the roof of the stoned ceiling. 

“Lumos!” Albus whispered and the tip of his wand burned with sudden light. “Scorpius!” He called. “SCORPIUS! SCORP WHERE ARE YOU?” 

He waved his wand around the room and had the odd, uncomfortable feeling he was being watched at all corners. He tip-toed across the marbled, cool floor, realizing his hand was shaking. He suddenly wished he brought his parents here. The Bearded Witch was right after all, wasn’t she? He did not make the wise decision but the wrong one. He felt his shoulders heavy with guilt and deepest regret. He was absolutely horrified. 

He crashed stupidly into a gate of some sort. Hang on. This was no gate. There were seven thick black bars surrounding the arched doorway. Albus peeked his head through it, noticing the staircase. This was not a room. This was a cellar. 

In that horrifying moment, Albus realized he had landed himself in mortal danger. This was the room, the cell he had been dreaming about for the past few months. That meant Delphi had to be here somewhere. But it also meant so was the Hooded Figure. 

Albus twisted his head out of the bars and spun around, his wand raised. He noticed fine black treasure chest bolted with rusted metal chains to bind it shut. Albus stared at the trunk beside his feet and quickly crouched to the floor quietly panicking. At first sight, he thought perhaps they had put Scorpius in there. Within a few seconds, however, he realized, this chest was far too small to fit him in. Thank Dumbledore. But, where was Scorpius, then? 

Albus moved his wand closer to the chest. He couldn’t help but notice all of the enchanting designs and symbols kissed upon it. There was a Dark Mark etched at the ridge of the trunk. Albus was surprised he didn’t see that earlier. As he crept closer to the black chest, Albus grew even more uneasy. The Dark Mark was not only imprinted in the corner of the chest, but all around the chest, like a border. There they were. The glittering green skull with a snake emerging from its mouth. Right at the centre of the chest, in scribbled writing read:

Property of the Malfoys

Long Live Purebloods

Albus gulped, slowly getting up to his feet, which were badly shaking. He now had absolutely no intention of cracking open the bloody chest anymore. Why were—? Why was that trunk there and how come the Malfoys owned it? It didn’t make sense why this chest was here, of all places. Long Live Purebloods? That was the password for the Slytherin Dormitory. What else did it mean? 

Hang on.

The trunk was owned by the Malfoys.

This chest was branded with images of the Dark Mark. 

Albus was in a cellar.

He felt a sudden comprehension of where he was.

He was at Malfoy’s Manor.


	14. Malfoy's Manor

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am SO SORRY for the super long wait! I've been swamped with exams and papers to write! Blame my muggle college! XD Thank you all for being so patient with me! XOXO
> 
> TRIGGER WARNING: MENTIONS OF CUTTING/SELF-INFLICTION

Albus knew, at this very moment, he was in grave peril. Of course, he had always felt safe whenever he was at the handsome Manor. But this—? This was an entirely different situation. He did not feel the slightest bit protected. The cellar brought an unbearable rush of anxiety to the core of his quaking bones. 

The room was constricted without hardly any air nor light. Even though Albus had produced the charm to harvest light, within seconds the golden smoke would disappear and fade sullenly into mysterious darkness. He didn’t like being in this cell one bit. The floors of the cell were noticeably damp, stonewashed with blotches of blood and brown muck. The entire cellar reeked of anguish and doom. What’s worse is he had the odd feeling he was under surveillance by someone or something. 

Albus made up his mind. He had to get the Portkey and leave. He was through playing the hero. How foolish was he to think he was able to defeat Delphi on his own? As soon as he found his boyfriend, he would grab Scorpius’s hand, latch onto the quilt and Disapparate without a moment of hesitation. Hold on. That’s a lie. First, he would kiss Scorpius’s lips, hug him, and then Disapparate.

“Lumos!” Albus said in a hushed tone, with an edge of urgency this time, leading the wand away from the black chest. 

Thud. Thud. Thud. 

He heard the stomping of heavy metal-like boots upstairs. Albus ducked to the ground, hitting his knees to the floor which seared like hell. Albus covered his mouth to keep himself from screaming out loud. Tears filled Albus’s eyes due to such agony. 

He moved his solemn green eyes to the roof of the cell, certain they would appear before him within a matter of seconds. To his amazement, no one came. Albus gawked up at the sandy roof, wondering what was going on. Why were they walking? What were they waiting for? Or, who was it they were waiting for? 

Thud. Thud. Thud.

It sounded like more than one person pacing about. It had to be Delphi and the Hooded Figure. Who else would it be? Didn’t they know Albus was here? Surely, they could sense that Albus had Disapparated into the cellar? Albus watched the vibrating walls cautiously which spit out tiny specks of dust onto Albus’s thick black hair as the footsteps went back and forth, back and forth, almost like a little dance. 

What, for the love of Dumbledore, was Albus supposed to do? Stay in the cell while Delphi and the Hooded Figure plotted murder? Or get up and fight his way out of the Manor? He wasn’t going to be a spare. He wasn’t going to sit here and wait for the angel of death to greet him. Albus scuttled over behind one of the stumpy walls, and hid behind it, gripping hard onto his wand which continued to tremble viciously. 

Once again, to his uttermost horror, the cell clouded into a permanent state of nothingness. It was as if the midnight sky had planted itself into the cell, refusing to let any form of light penetrate through the room. Albus could not see a thing. Why was it, whenever he tried to see light, he could only see darkness? Exasperated, Albus steadied his wand, rapidly losing patience. 

“Lum—”

“Don’t!” A brittle voice cried out. “Don’t do it.”

“S-Scorp?” Albus called out. “Scorpius, is that you?”

Albus could not breathe. His heart jittered out of his chest. Was it—? Was it him? It took a few seconds for Albus to remember how to breathe, but in his heart, he knew. He knew it was Scorpius. He recognized that beautiful voice. It was him. It had to be Scorpius. Albus wanted nothing more than to figure out where that voice was coming from. He wanted to hold Scorpius in his arms here and now and never let go. He wanted to press his lips with his. Tears swelled in Albus’s face and Albus knew it had nothing to do with the tingling pain he continued to feel on his knees. 

“S-Scorpius…”

“Albus you have to—ow!”

“What?” Albus was rendered in immediate hysteria. “Who’s hurting you?”

“S-s-s-she cursed me…” Scorpius tried to explain quietly, “p-put a taboo curse so whenever I would say her name…or-o-or yours…the word traitor would scratch onto my skin.”

“I’ll kill her.” Albus vowed. 

“Albus—ow! Ow …”

“Don’t say my name.”

“It’s hard not to.” Scorpius shuddered. 

“I’ve got to see you, Scorp. Give me a sec to use Lumos—”

“No!” Scorpius hissed. “Don’t!”

There was a long pause. Albus didn’t understand. Scorpius was not acting like himself at all. What happened? What was going on? “Why—why won’t you let me see you?” 

Scorpius sounded like he had been crying. His voice was much further away now. Albus heard movement in the corner of the room. It was obvious that Scorpius wanted to be nowhere near Albus. “Y-y-you don’t want to see me like this…”

Albus could practically feel steam drift out of his ears with untamed frenzy. Anger occupied every part of Albus’s body. “What did they do to you?” He fists were scrunched together like bowling balls. “Tell me what they did to you! I’ll kill them!”

“Doesn’t hurt so much now…”

“Have you been interfering every time I had cast Lumos, then?”

Scorpius was dumbfounded. “No. Wasn’t me.” He scanned around the cell worriedly. “Unless we aren’t alone…”

“Rubbish,” Albus said hastily, pretending the possibility of an outsider sitting somewhere within this dark room did not scare him one bit. He knew Scorpius was frightened beyond belief. He had every reason to be. If Albus admitted to agreeing that there could be another person in this cell, it would definitely terrify Scorpius even more. He needed Scorpius to stay as calm as possible. “It’s okay.” He whispered lightly. “It’s okay. I’m coming to you.” 

Albus made up his mind and began crawling towards the voice in the darkness, clumsily banging into strange articles on the floor. He bumped into a steel watering can and a glass plate, sloppily knocking the stale piece of bread and pathetic triangular piece of cheese to the floor. But that didn’t stop him. He needed to see his boyfriend. Scorpius said he didn’t want Albus to use Lumos, so he wouldn’t. He would find him in the darkness. 

“Shh!” Scorpius warned restlessly and proceeded to chew his nails. “They’ll hear you! They’ll come!”

“Let them come.” Albus muttered crossly, moving his pale hands to the concrete ground. He could feel a dense scratch mark carved onto the floor. He wondered if it belonged to an animal of some sort, or a human. Albus quickly motored his hands over to the opposite direction, hoping he was going in the right way. “Can’t wait to get my hands on that lunatic.”

“Which one?”

“There are two of them?”

“They took turns, yes.”

“Kill them both then.”

“Yeah,” Scorpius rolled his eyes but smiled nonetheless. He couldn’t help it. It was adorable how protective Albus was of him. “Whatever you say.” 

“There was a chest,” Albus suddenly remembered, “i-it was yours…”

“Mine?”

“I-it was the Malfoys. It was black.” Albus muttered, scratching the back of his head. “I-I don’t know what exactly is in it, but it looked important. There were Dark Marks all over it!” He scrunched his eyebrows together in marvel. “Have you ever seen it before?”

“Has all of Grandad’s rubbish in there,” said Scorpius softly, “Dad told me to never look in it so I kept away.”

“And you—? You didn’t take a peek?” Albus probed, surprised at Scorpius’s obedience. “Not once?” Albus knew if Harry had told him such a thing, Albus would crank that chest open within seconds. 

Scorpius shrugged. “I suspect Dad said that for a reason. It probably has something to do with Voldemort. Dad’s face always goes pale whenever he speaks about him. O-or the Death Eaters. Or Granddad, sometimes…”

“I reckon you’re right, Scorp.” Albus agreed. “Perhaps before we leave here, we should take a look—?”

Scorpius laughed dryly. “Yes. Have fun with that.”

“Oh come on, you dork,” said Albus, biting his lip. “You’re honestly telling me you’re not one bit curious?”

“Yes,” Scorpius was smiling now, “yes that is exactly what I am telling you.”

“Come here.” Albus grinned, cupping his arms in the darkness, but ended up hitting one of the walls. 

“Slick.” Scorpius snorted.

“Would be easier if you just let me use Lumos…”

“You don’t want to see me.” Scorpius responded.

“Yes I do.” Albus insisted. He stopped crawling and sat still, his thoughts lingering to what Scorpius had said earlier. “Um. Scorp? Y-you said erm…you-you mentioned that there were two of them? The other man…w-who was he? He—he was wearing a hood of some sort. A long black one—?”

Scorpius hesitated. “How’d you know?”

“The nightmares,” Albus told him quietly, blindly feeling the damp floor, “the cellar…it’s—it’s this one! The one I’ve been dreaming of for the past few months. We thought it was Azkaban, remember? But it wasn’t. It was this cell! This one right here. The one at your house. Chilling… don’t you think? That it was right here the whole time…right in front of us…”

Scorpius turned away from Albus, keeping himself behind the wall. He could tell that Albus was getting closer.

“I hate this place.” Albus groaned. 

“Thanks.” Scorpius mumbled, his voice thick with sarcasm. 

“No,” Albus reconsidered, “No I meant this cellar. Not the Manor.” His fingers groomed the filthy ground for any other loose objects that could be splattered in his way. “I wonder why Delphi brought us here. It’s your Manor. She has no connection to you at all.”

“Yeah.” Scorpius responded inaudibly, recalling the conversation he had with her back in the Slytherin Dormitory. They…they were cousins. Blood related. Nothing could change that. What would Albus think of him if he knew? There was so much at stake. Everything would change if Albus knew. He didn’t want things to change. He wanted things to remain the same. Everything was going so well with them now that they were finally…together. Scorpius knew better than to jeopardize that. “No connection at all.” He repeated, his words tasting like the vomit flavour of Bertie Bott's Every Flavour Beans. 

“Do you suppose she likes this place, that’s why?” Albus wondered aloud. “Perhaps she feels at home here, too?”

“It’s funny,” Scorpius remarked despairingly, “a home…a home is supposed to be a place…somewhere you feel safe at all times. The Manor has always been that for me. But now—? I can’t…I don’t—don’t feel safe. Not one bit.” He adjusted his poor posture a bit, leaning his back fully against the wall, letting out an involuntary groan of pain. 

“You okay?”

“Yes. Fine. Fine.” Scorpius muttered. “I…erm.” There was a shred of hope bounded in his voice now. “I…I’ve done some thinking down here, and it made me confirm something I had always felt…”

“What do you mean, Scorp?”

“My home,” Scorpius lifted his gaze and looked out into the darkness, peeking from behind the icy wall. He could see the shadow of Albus hunched over gazing over at the opposite direction. “It isn’t the Manor. It’s you.”

“Scorp.” Albus breathed. “Scorp. Now I really need to see you…”

He hovered towards the voice and reached out and grabbed onto one of the diminutive walls, thinking it was Scorpius’s arm. 

“Oh damn.” Albus sighed irritably. “Help me, Scorp. Where are you? Say something. Anything.” 

The silence was deafening. 

“Scorp, I only want to sit beside you.” Albus averred. “I won’t look at you. I won’t produce the Lumos charm. I swear. Just—l-let me hold you.”

Silence.

Something clearly wasn’t right.

Albus muffled out a swear word and pulled out his wand. “Lumos!” He cried, whisking his wand to the corner of the room, letting the burning light soar blazingly within the cellar. The room was burned with a fantastic brightness so blinding, Albus was positive he had accidentally produced the Patronus Charm. 

Albus looked up, expecting to see his boyfriend, but instead, Albus was face to face with his Boggart.

Delphi was towering down at him, her purple lips producing a cracked smirk while her pastel fingers creeped against Scorpius’s mouth, covering his lips so he would be unable to speak. She pressed her wand by his neck hostilely. Delphi flicked her twined black hair away from her divine face, grinning animatedly, her shark-like teeth twinkling. 

“Albus.” She simpered roguishly. “How I’ve missed you.”

Albus knew he was supposed to be afraid; deathly afraid. But at this present moment, it was like Delphi did not exist for the only person Albus could see was Scorpius. 

Albus kept his green diamond eyes lingered upon Scorpius who shook his head hysterically at him, soundlessly pleading for him to not freak out. But Albus couldn’t hold it in. With the scorching light, Albus could clearly see the damage that was done.

Scorpius’s pulchritudinous face was swarmed with horrid blue bruises; his thin cheeks were splashed with tinges of blood and his left eye involuntarily twitched for it was badly lacerated. It appeared as if Scorpius was nearly immobile for his body was braced against Delphi as if he needed her to help him stand. 

How could Albus have let this happen? Again?

“Why would you do this?” Albus whispered to Delphi. 

“Now, Albus,” said Delphi atrociously. “No need for you to get emotional.”

“HE DIDN’T DO ANYTHING, OKAY?” Albus bellowed so hard until his lungs throbbed. “HE DOESN’T DESERVE THIS!”

Delphi shook his head at him. “Such a temper.” 

Did she think Albus was playing games? No. No he wasn’t. Albus didn’t hesitate. He raised his wand, aiming for Delphi’s hand which was smothered on top of Scorpius’s lips. 

“CRUCIO!”

Delphi let out a terrible cry and fell to the floor. 

The moment she let go of Scorpius—as Albus expected—Scorpius slipped forward, unable to save himself from the fall, but Albus was faster and caught him immediately.

Albus cradled Scorpius in his arms, holding him tightly as he could, and kissed him full on the mouth. He didn’t care that Delphi was watching. He didn’t care at all. 

He kissed him long and slow and blanketed him into his shaking arms, leaning down and kissing him adoringly on the cheek. Scorpius began crying quietly, pushing his fingers into Albus’s hair as he continued embracing his boyfriend, closing his eyes at his touch.

“I’m scared.” Scorpius admitted, his voice hardly distinct. “So scared.”

“It’s okay,” Albus soothed, “I’m here now. I’m here.” Albus whispered. “I love you so much. I’m—s-s-so…s-s-sorry…”

“I…love…you…” Scorpius murmured, nothing more than to stay in Albus’s arms.

But their embrace was cut far too short. Albus pushed his boyfriend behind him. 

“Al—”

“Don’t say my name!” Albus reminded him.

He turned to glare at Delphi. “CRUCIO!” He said again—louder this time. 

Delphi’s body began thrashing brutally on the floor. Her scream was penetratingly high and downright awful and difficult to ignore, but Albus didn’t care. He’d do it again, no problem. He wanted her to feel his pain. For her to taste the pain she had inflicted upon his boyfriend. He wasn’t through with her yet, oh no, he was just getting started. He yearned to curse her against with the torture curse but not even that would be enough. Nothing would ever be enough. What’s a few curses? He needed to inflict more damage. Severe damage. Imaginable damage that would make her beg for death. Even when she begged for death, not even then would Albus comply. Oh no, he would find other means to torture her…

“T-that’s enough!” Scorpius told him, tugging at his hand. “Please, let’s get out of here…”

“No.” Albus said harshly, his voice nearly unrecognizable, smothered with hatred. Albus kept his wand at Delphi, feeling himself get an unexpected scrap of satisfaction by hearing her harrowing, drawn out screams. He bored his green emerald eyes onto her demonic irises. “She needs to pay for what she did to you…”

“She did this to get a rise out of you!” Scorpius explained, pulling his arm away from Delphi’s shaking body. “This is what she wants! To see you lose it…unhinge…become someone you’re not…” 

Albus lowered his wand and the curse was immediately lifted. Delphi coughed terribly, and massaged her abdomen and looked up at him with a disoriented and pained look on her face. He had expected her to hex him, but instead, she flashed him a smile. 

“Now—that…that is the Albus Potter I adore. Knew you had it in you.”

“I am capable of killing.” Albus said proudly. “Remember that the next time you lay a hand on Scorpius.”

“Oh I promise you, I will.” 

“I’m not close to being finished with you.” Albus spat.

“Neither am I.” 

“It’s you and I now.” Albus said sharply, watching her rise from the ground, like a demon being birthed to life. “Leave Scorp out of this.” 

Delphi’s eyes were wide and bulged, crazed with ferociousness; her knotty hair leapt at each seductive step. She was so close to Albus that he was positive she would kiss him. Her face was nearly as red as her ruby robe which rolled onto the floor like a cape. “Scorpius.” She beckoned in her sugary whisper. “Come here.”

“Don’t.” Albus told him, keeping his left hand interlocked with Scorpius, and the other, clenched by his wand, fixed at Delphi. Scorpius made a small whimper and leaned his head against the spine of Albus, who could feel him tremble in fear. 

Albus attempted to reason with her. “You wanted me to come alone, so I did.” 

Delphi’s eyes travelled to the snowy bandages twisted around his arms. She sneered knowingly and clicked her tongue together. “My, my my Albus, what’s happened to your wrists, dear boy?”

Albus bobbed his head down, trying to reel his sleeves down, but with his shaking fingers, he was unable to move. He stopped midway, thinking about the time James had broke his arm in his first year during one of the biggest games of the season. 

“Took a nasty fall during Quidditch tryouts.” 

“You aren’t the best liar, Albus Potter.” Delphi said silkily, ruffling her crimson gown. “You may be able to fool your filthy father with such lies. But not I.” Delphi slammed her hand on top of Albus’s forearms who let out a gasp of pain at her rancorous touch. 

Scorpius staggered forward, still holding onto Albus’s hand for support. “Take me.” He rasped.

“Shut up, Scorp!” Albus cried. He turned to Delphi, his eyes watering with desperation. “Don’t listen to him, just—”

“Expulso!”

Albus threw Scorpius to the ground, pulling himself down with him so the curse could hit him instead, but they had ducked just in time, dodging the fiery red sparks by an inch. 

Albus lurched to his feet, pointing to his lips at Scorpius, signalling him to stay quiet and to stay where he was. Albus already got him in enough danger. 

Albus raised his wand at her, his eyes crossed with inmost ferocity. “It’s me you want, isn’t it?” He chucked his own wand to the side, raising his palms slowly in the air. “Now you’ve got me. Defenseless.” 

“Bravery.” Delphi smirked. “Your father had it too.” 

“Has.” Albus corrected. His eyes met Scorpius. “Now leave my—leave him alone.” 

“Very well.” She roamed around the cellar, turning her back on Albus as she stalked about. 

That’s when he saw it: the Augurey tattoo branded on the back of her shoulder. Albus felt shivers all over. The Augurey tattoo was a constant reminder of how horribly Scorpius and Albus had messed up the universe once they had access to the Timeturner. Scorpius had told Albus all about how corrupted the Wizarding World was as a result of them going back in time. There were Mudblood Deathcamps, the ongoing torture of Muggleborns and persecution to any wizard or witch who were against such immoral attacks. 

Albus stared at the tattoo longer; he was so mesmerized by its eerie figure. That bird was a sign of death. The greenish blackish Augurey had its head perched back with its fine beak sticking out mournfully, yet pompously. Its jade, gloomy wings were suspended in midair, as if it were just about to take off and fly. 

Delphi paused and turned to face Albus, who darted his eyes away from her, glancing at the fusty food littered on the floor instead. “Fascinated by my tattoo?”

“No.” Albus lied. 

“Fond memories this place holds, don’t you agree?”

“Hardly.” 

“Granger was tortured here for being a filthy little Mudblood.”

“Don’t—use—that—word.” Scorpius sputtered.

“Scorp, don’t.” Albus advised. 

“SHUT IT, THE BOTH OF YOU!”

“What is it you want?” Albus queried.

“TAKE THOSE RUDDY BANDAGES OF YOUR ARMS!” Delphi bellowed, bursting with surprising, boiling rage. “NOW!”

Albus froze. What about his scars interested her? That was quite an odd request. He didn’t want her to see his scratches. Albus was positive he misheard her. Did she—? Did she really want to see Albus’s cuts? It was as if things couldn’t possibly have gotten more complicated and confusing. Why did she want to see them, anyway?

“SHE’S A LEGILIMENS!” Scorpius yelled from the cold ground, looking up at Albus, cursing himself for not mentioning this important fact to Albus sooner. “WHATEVER YOU’RE THINKING, SHE HAS ACCESS TO IT! EMPTY OUT YOUR MIND!”

“SHUT UP YOU PATHETIC FOOL!” Delphi roared, raising her wand at him.

“NO!” Albus screamed. Has she not gotten the message? Albus was capable of killing. One curse. All it takes it one curse to take a life. He would do it in a heartbeat. Without remorse. Without question. He didn’t care if that would mean he would probably spend the rest of his life in Azkaban. All he wanted to do right now and right this second, was to kill Delphi. Damn it. Where was his wand? He didn’t have his wand. Where did it go? His eyes locked onto this wand that he had thrown on the floor, the same time Delphi’s eyes slinked itself onto Albus’s wand. Albus dived for the wand, wrestling it out of Delphi’s hands and yelled: “SECTUMSEMPRA!”

Delphi flew away from that curse and appeared behind Albus. She thrusted her arm back and slapped him hard across the face.

Albus, who was startled by this, leapt back, clutching his cheek. 

“Do not use Snape’s spells against me, idiot boy.” Delphi commanded. “Disgusting man who fancied a Mudblood.” 

“WANT TO SEE THEM?” Albus said coolly. “Be my guest.” Albus tore off the white casts that was nested protectively against his forearms, hurling the bandages onto the pebbled floor. He held his arms in front of Delphi, wondering how she knew about them and why she was so captivated by the inflamed cuts that swelled his skin.

She constrained her pale hands onto Albus’s cuts, taking her slim finger and charting the scratches up and down his skin with unexplainable appeal. Albus examined her vibrant face, confounded by it all.

Delphi bit her purple lips, keeping her skinny hands wrapped around his arms. “It’s perfect.” She murmured.

“What?”

Her reddish, green oval eyes glistened dangerously. “Nearly complete, I’d say…”

Albus scrunched his eyebrows together, trying to jerk away from her, but she had her hands snaked sharply around his wrists so he could not move. He didn’t like the way she smirked at him. Her eyes were burning maliciously with overwhelming pride. 

“Get off me.” He barked, bombarded with sudden panic. He tried his best to rip himself away from such a malevolent woman, but no matter how hard he tried, he could not move. Albus twisted his head to look at his boyfriend, kicking his wand to Scorpius. “Summon the Quilt and get out of here.” He knew whatever came next could not be good. He wanted Scorpius to have no part in Delphi’s twisted plans. “Now.”

Scorpius grabbed the wand and nonverbally muttered a hex, aiming it at Delphi who simply waved her hand in the air, blocking the spell as if it were second nature to her. She was skillfully trained in the Dark Arts, to Scorpius’s misfortune. 

“DISAPPARATING IS OUT OF THE QUESTION! WE’VE CHARMED THE ROOM SO NEITHER OF YOU CAN LEAVE.” Delphi shrieked, sounding disturbingly identical to her late mother, Bellatrix Lestrange.

“JUST LET SCORPIUS GO!” Albus beseeched, his eyes swept across the room, looking from Scorpius to Delphi. “He’s been through enough. I-I-I don’t know why you had to hurt him like this…I-I didn’t need you to hurt him for me to come. The fact that you took him from me was enough.”

“I must admit, it was becoming particularly boring torturing him.” Delphi shrugged, stroking her own shoulders. “But what choice did I have? You didn’t come.”

“I WANTED TO!” Albus shouted. “DON’T YOU GET THAT? I WANTED TO COME! I JUST—DIDN’T KNOW—DIDN’T KNOW HOW TO!” He hid his face away from her for he knew he was only a matter of seconds away from breaking down and weeping hysterically. He had to hold it together. “I j-just didn’t know how to. Didn’t know where you’d taken him. I couldn’t see any of it. Didn’t see any visions. Not until you showed me his—” But Albus stopped abruptly, and closed his eyes. “D-didn’t know…d-d-didn’t know he was being hurt until you showed me that…” He didn’t want Scorpius to know he had seen his dead body. Scorpius was already undoubtedly terrified. He didn’t want to make matters worse. 

Delphi tapped her chin solicitously, the way Scorpius sometimes did whenever he was deep in thought. The fact that Delphi resembled Scorpius for a split second was enough to make Albus want to gag. 

“Ah I see.” She murmured. “I reckon it’s not strong enough is all…”

Thud. Thud. Thud. 

The Hooded Figure jogged down the stoned staircase, and raised his russet wand at the archway, moving his lips to utter out a spell which granted him access to the mucky cellar. He glanced at Albus with a sadistic sneer and nodded urgently at Delphi, hovering towards her. The moment the pair made eye contact, the Hooded Figure swiftly bowed down to her, leaning his body close towards hers, and within the same second—he propped back. 

The Hooded Figure was wearing a long crisp black cloak that brushed the floor, looking quite much like an oversized dementor. He had on a great hood that sat upon his head. A clean white mask of a desolate looking Augurey was capped on his face to conceal his true identity. The sleeves of the cloak were hanging off his elbows like a withering tree dying from drought. The Augurey mask had a razor-sharp beak at the nose and two holes where the Augurey’s eyes were supposed to be located. The Augurey mask only covered the man’s eyes and nose; for his lips were quite clear. His face was pulled into a repulsed, pale scowl of some sort. The eyes underneath the mask was probably the scariest of all: the eyes of the man were bulging and black as night. 

“What do you want?” Delphi grimaced, rolling her eyes irascibly. Clearly the respect the Hooded Figure held for her was one sided. She spoke to him as if he were nothing more than a tetchy little garden gnome who leeched off her garden of flowers. 

The Hooded Figure leaned into Delphi’s ear speaking quite loudly. 

“Potter and Malfoy know you’ve escaped Azkaban.” Albus heard him murmur. 

With a single sentence, Albus felt himself deflate from all of the tension and terror that had invaded his body and mind. His heart was now pumping normally it seemed. Help was on the way. Scorpius and Albus would be saved. Everything would surely be alright. They just had to hold on a little bit longer. 

Albus’s green eyes dawdled over to his boyfriend, who seemed to not pay attention to Albus’s anxious gaze, but instead, was focused solely on the Hooded Man. Scorpius seemed to shrivel at his presence. His arms were raised protectively over her own body, as if he were sure the man would jinx him. Scorpius’s knees were pulled to his chest. He began shaking all over. Scorpius’s breathing grew erratic and out of control simply by just seeing the man. His chest began rising and falling horrendously. 

“Breathe, Scorp. Breathe.” Albus consoled, running to his side, but Delphi grabbed his arm—hard. Albus let out a cry of pain, feeling her nails dig into his opened wounds. “OW! LET GO OF ME!” He yelled out; his wrists were burning like fire. 

“Oh no,” Delphi snickered nastily. “You aren’t going anywhere!”

“Al—”

“Don’t!” Albus warned him. He forced a smile; his eyes were watering with tears. “It’s okay. I’m okay.”

“No you’re not…”

“Breathe.” Albus whispered. “Look at me and breathe.”

“I…c-can’t…” Scorpius panted.

“Look into my eyes.” Albus gently guided him. “You like my eyes, don’t you?” He gave him an amorous grin.

Scorpius scuffled out a nervous beam. “Well. Yes.”

“Good.” Albus felt his ears turn bright pink. “Keep staring and keep breathing.” He nodded at Scorpius. “In and out, Scorp. Breathe in and out. Very slowly.”

“In and out.” Scorpius repeated in a small voice.

Albus smiled at him. “In and out.” He advised him. Albus decided to breathe along with him to make Scorpius feel most at ease. 

Scorpius was able to breathe properly on his own after several minutes. He took long slow breaths, closing his grey eyes.

This was almost over. They just had to hold on a little bit more. This terrible night was coming to an end. Everything would be over before they knew it. Albus moved his emerald eyes towards the black gates, eagerly awaiting the arrival of Draco and Harry. 

Hurry up. He thought to himself. We’ve made it this far, but we need your help. Hurry up…

Delphi touched the Hooded Figure Man’s shoulder. “Go get Scorpius will you?”

“STOP IT!” Albus shouted loudly, his eyes shining with odium. “YOU HAVE ME, DON’T YOU? YOU WANTED ME HERE. AND HERE I AM! TAKE ME. DO WHAT YOU WANT. LEAVE HIM—LEAVE HIM ALONE!”

Delphi’s lips curled into a sneer. She was evidentially enjoying watching Albus spiral out of control. “I am only asking him to take Scorpius, because neither of you are going to like what I am about to do next. It involves hurting you, Albus. Yes you. But in case you choose not to comply, Scorpius will have to pay…”

“Hurt me!” Albus agreed, talking quickly, certain that she would be able to hex Scorpius before Albus could stop her. “I don’t care. I’ll comply, no problem. Hurt me. Hurt me. Me. I’m begging you, Delphi, just—just don’t hurt him. Please. Please. Please.”

Delphi was mildly entertained. “Never seen you behave this way, Albus.” She was halfway between amused and revolted. “So pathetic. So vulnerable.”

“I’ll say whatever you want! Do whatever you want” He pleaded frenziedly. “Just don’t—d-d-don’t get…d-d-don’t h-h-hurt h-him…”

Delphi gazed at him for several seconds as if she were positive this was a trick of some sort. Even Delphi could not miss the desperation nipped in his voice and strained on his pathetic face. “Fine.” She droned in her high pitched velvet voice. She released him out of her hold and turned her back on him, quietly conversing with The Hooded Figure. 

Albus turned to steal a glimpse of Scorpius. “It’ll be fine.” He murmured softly. “Keep breathing.” He reminded him. 

Scorpius nodded obediently but appeared rather worried. “I want to help…” He whispered back.

“Help me by helping you.” Albus said in a hushed voice. “Breathe, Scorp. In and out, like we’ve practiced. You and I…we—we’re going to be okay.”

Scorpius reached his hand out for Albus to touch. “How do you know for sure?”

Albus gave him a teeny smile of reassurance, leaning down and curling his fingers with his. “I just know.” 

“Now.” Delphi cleared her throat and immediately Albus let go of Scorpius. She watched the pair tear away from each other, and let out an evil cackle of laughter. “You two boyfriends bidding your farewells?” It was the first time Albus heard Delphi address Scorpius and Albus as boyfriends. He wasn’t sure how he felt about that. “Quite smart, I must say.” She clawed her hand against Albus’s wrists, who—for Scorpius’s sake, hid the pain he was suddenly flooded with. “I need you to do something for me, dear Albus. We don’t have much time. You see…Harry Potter and Draco Malfoy know I’ve fled prison. I imagine it won’t take too long before they spot me. What I want you to do Albus…it…must…be…fast.” 

Albus leaned his head to the side. “What are you talking about?”

“This.”

She snapped her fingers together and suddenly a long, black and needle-like quill of some sort floated towards her. Albus’s eyes widened at such an artifact. It was—it was the Black Quill. It was the same Quill Albus had used to…to…to do what he did…to hurt himself. Why…why did she want him to use it again? How did she have this Quill—this exact Quill? Hang on. Didn’t his Dad have the Quill? Harry had given it to the Ministry of Magic to investigate, didn’t he? How is it in Delphi’s possession? Most importantly, how did she know he had been hurting himself?

Delphi slowly reached for the Quill, forcing it into Albus’s palms. “I need you to finish what you’ve started, dear boy.” She murmured entrancingly, slipping her arms over his shoulders. 

Albus could not move. He stared at the Black Quill hauntingly, wondering what she meant by that. Did she—? Did she really want him to…to use it…? Right now. In front of her? In front of…in front of his boyfriend? 

Albus peered down at his slashed wrists and shook his head. He threw the Quill to the floor, clenching his jaw. “I won’t!”

“Then say goodbye to your boyfriend. Avada—”

“NO!”

“No?” Delphi repeated, stepping closer to him. “NO? NO!” She said again, as if trying to comprehend what he had said. Delphi’s eyes were crooked with vehemence and frustration. She curled her fingers deep within the collar of his shirt, bringing him close to her face as she screamed, spitting spitefully as she spoke. “THEN COOPERATE, FOOL! DO AS I SAY! ACCIO BLACK QUILL!” The dark object once again fluttered to her like a broken butterfly. She raised her dim eyebrows at Albus, shoving him away from her, as if he were vermin. “DO IT!” She handed him the same dented, crinkled parchment that Albus had received a year ago, along with the seemingly indecipherable riddle penned messily within it. 

Use me as your own personal noose  
Your lover’s blood is now on the loose  
A tortured mind will go mad  
Death shall take the second Dad

“W-where’d--? Where’d you get this?” Albus stammered, his eyes falling onto the words scrawled on the paper, certain that this was not real. That none of this was. Albus pushed the back of his hair back with his free hand. “H-how—? W-w-where…h-h-how do you have this?” 

“Not your concern!” Delphi laughed hotly. “Continue the lines, Albus Severus Potter! Do it now, I say.” 

Scorpius’s grey eyes narrowed to Albus’s exposes wrists. “This—t-t-t-this isn’t—isn’t the way…it—it isn’t right and you know it!” 

“Shush!” Albus cried. The last thing he wanted was for Delphi to jinx him. “Look away, Scorp.” He commanded. 

“W-what?”

“It’ll be over before you know it…it doesn’t take very long, anyway…” Albus said, his head heavy with guilt. 

Scorpius tried to get to his feet. The Hooded Figure started to walk towards him, but Delphi pulled him back.

“Don’t!” She hissed.

“You—don’t—have—to…please! Please don’t do this!” Scorpius hobbled towards Albus, balancing his weight against him who quickly latched his arm onto the curve of Scorpius’s waist to keep him from tumbling. He was glaring at Delphi. “You’ve got no family…”

Delphi looked as though she were considering murder. 

He stared at her nervously, playing the final, desperate card. “B-but you--y-you’ve got me.”

Albus glowered at Scorpius in surprise. Scorpius couldn’t help but notice Albus’s hold on him grew weaker. So it was true, after all. It was, what Scorpius had feared the most: that Albus would now treat him like an outsider once discovering Scorpius’s true identity.

Albus didn’t know who Scorpius was at this present moment. What did he just utter? Has he fallen ill? Why was he speaking such rubbish? He was lying. He had to be. Delphi was his family? That’s a laugh. That’s really a laugh. 

“What the bloody—?”

Scorpius pretended he could not hear him, and carried on quickly before he would cower out. He knew what he was about to say would jeopardize their relationship. But at this moment, none of that mattered right now. What mattered was that Albus was alive and that he wasn’t self-inflicting. What Delphi had asked for him…what she wanted him to do was sick and cruel. It wasn’t right. Scorpius refused to stand here and let them make Albus hurt himself like this. 

“We’re cousins.” The word rolled out of his tongue like a swear word; a word so horrific that must be recanted. But he couldn’t. Even if he did take back such a statement, that wouldn’t change the horrendous truth. He couldn’t run away from his blood. Or who he was related to. Scorpius could feel Albus’s glimpse penetrating through his like a block of ice, but Scorpius suddenly found it difficult to look at him, and instead stuck his eyes onto his blood relative. “As your cousin, I am begging you t-to…t-to just… s-s-spare him. If f-family means anything to you…if-if I mean anything to do at all, you’d reconsider.” He tore his eyes off Delphi and stared at the man who plagued him with just as much pain and terror as Delphi did. “You both have had your fun. I can take that. He gulped and stared at Delphi’s bleak, bloodshot eyes. “But what I can’t have—what I won’t allow—is for you to do this to him.”

Delphi lifted her chin up, looking nearly identical to the tattoo branded on her shoulder. “I do not spare anyone, Scorpius Malfoy. You know that.” 

“If I do this,” Albus interrupted quietly, “you’ll let us go?”

Delphi slowly nodded at him. “I only want one thing from you. To continue what you’ve started. Once you do that, you may leave, yes. I shall uncharm this cellar, and you and my cousin are free to go.”

“Fine.” Albus mumbled.

She handed Albus the Dark Quill. “Ready?” 

Albus clutched the Quill in his hand, gulping. “Yes.” 

“ALBUS OW! ALBUS OW—DON’T! I’M BEGGING YOU—”

“Scorp, I love you but shut up.” Albus urged. Now Albus was the one who could not bear to meet his boyfriend’s deeply saddened, conflicted gaze. “It’ll be over before you know it. Just. Close your eyes.”

“I have been,” Scorpius whispered, crying hard now, “Have been this whole time, haven’t I? Didn’t know about your cutting until a few hours ago…”

“Scorp.” Albus murmured, finally turning to him and touching his face. “Listen to me very carefully—I just need you to let me do this. I’ll do this and then we can get out of here. Won’t ever do this again. It’ll be a one-time thing…”

“Isn’t that how it started?” Scorpius countered. “You told yourself it would only be a one-time thing?”

“That—that’s different.” Albus stuttered. “It’ll be over soon. I swear. It’s no big deal…”

“Please.” Scorpius begged, snugging onto him, closing his fingers with his. “I’m sure the two of us can figure out another way out of this. You p-p-promised you wouldn’t—you wouldn’t ever—”

“I don’t have time for this.” Delphi sighed in annoyance. “Silence him. Make sure you only paralyze him. Like what I did to his father.” She ordered. She waved her hand at the Hooded Figure who nodded like an obedient robot, and proceeded to walk towards Scorpius. “Oh!” Delphi beamed excitedly, her dimple twitching. “Get a nice chair for him as well. I want him to watch his precious boyfriend use the Quill…”

“No.” Albus said, moving in front of Scorpius. He shielded his whole body against him. “HE DOESN’T GET TO WATCH! DON’T—DON’T DO THIS! PLEASE! DON’T TAKE HIM! HAVE MERCY! TAKE ME! TAKE ME INSTEAD!”

The Hooded Man punched Albus hard in the gut who crumbled back, falling behind Scorpius. His hands continued to spread against Scorpius like glue. Whatever happened, he would not let the Hooded Man penetrate through and take Scorpius away from him. 

Not again. Not ever. 

Albus screamed violently as the hexes cast by the Hooded Man hit his flesh. Dark streams of red began to pour out from his nose, staining his clothes. His entire body felt like it were being stabbed by invisible hot needles. He didn’t care. He didn’t care if he were dying. He would not allow Delphi or the Hooded Man to get to Scorpius. 

But at the same time, Albus was worried he would pass out. He wasn’t sure how long he could hold this position. What would happen if he was knocked unconscious? He would wake up and see Scorpius gagged and tied up by Delphi and the Hooded Figure? Albus could not let that happen.

With the limited amount of strength he was able to muster, Albus reached for the wand on the floor, his vision blurred from the tears due to the immense fire of pain that consumed his body. 

“I’m sorry, Scorpius. I have to.”

“What are you—?”

Albus raised his wand at Scorpius whose aghast, grey eyes widened with a shock so cold it nearly froze his system.

“Wait—don’t!”

“Petrificus Totalus!”

Scorpius went stiff as a board, and wheeled backwards, falling to the ground. 

“I’m sorry.” Albus mouthed to his boyfriend before turning away from him. He paused and moved his wand to Scorpius’s hand, where he saw the bright red cut of the word Traitor sliced on his flesh. He muttered the countercurse so once Scorpius was revived, he would be able to say Albus and Delphi’s name without facing repercussions. Albus’s solemn eyes met Scorpius’s. Guilt rained down on him.

Albus knew what he did was wrong. Albus knew if he was lying on the floor due to a hex produced by Scorpius, Albus would be furious. But…Albus would also understand that Scorpius did that to him. To protect him. To protect him against Delphi and the Hooded Man. His intentions were good, after all. Scorpius would surely forgive him, wouldn’t he? It would take some time, but Albus knew Scorpius would eventually understand why Albus hexed him. 

“No one touch him okay?” Albus said, cupping the wand in his shaking hand, pointing it at the two, his fuzzy eyebrows raised. 

“Right,” The Hooded Man leered, stepping closer to Albus. “Right…” The man’s voice was no longer deep and gruff but disconcertingly familiar. “That’s your job, isn’t it?” 

Just like that, Albus was invaded by a flashback of the fight he had with Yann in the Restricted Section. 

“DON’T TOUCH HIM!” He yelled. 

“Right. That’s your job, now, isn’t it?” Yann sneered.

No. 

No—it couldn’t be. Couldn’t possibly—?

Albus’s narrowed his eyes in suspicion at the man draped with the midnight coloured cloak. The Hooded Figure slowly threw his fine black hood back and removed the Augurey mask, flinging it towards Delphi, who caught it with her left hand. She pursed her lips together, smirking viciously. 

The Hooded Figure groomed his brawny arms into the loose twines of his oily red hair which was looped into a disarrayed ponytail. His large black eyed settled itself onto Albus’s, like a vulture ready to feast upon a fresh corpse. 

The Hooded Figure…was Yann Fredericks.


	15. Bloodlines and Blood Traitors

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> TRIGGER WARNING: MENTIONS OF CUTTING/SELF-INFLICTION  
> TRIGGER WARNING: HOMOPHOBIA/DEROGATORY TERMS

Albus’s face couldn’t have gotten paler. “You.” He gulped. 

There Yann was, gaping at Albus as if he were a helpless Jobberknoll he could handily tear apart with his teeth. Albus wasn’t sure who was more dangerous; Delphi or Yann. What’s worse was…they were—they were working together. They were working together all along. Everything that was once murky was now clearing up. 

Of course, it was Yann who had contacted Delphi and alerted her about everything that was going on in his life—including the fact that he and Scorpius were now dating. That is probably why Delphi was so keen on taking Scorpius as leverage. He must have told her about Albus’s cutting as well. He couldn’t believe it. His school bully—his tormentor—was working with Delphi. Delphi, his Boggart. Delphi, the woman who killed Craig Bowker Jr. Delphi, who tortured Scorpius. It was Delphi who had caused Albus so much agony and misery. She was the core reason for all of this and Yann—Yann was equally guilty. He had been ardently working with a cold blooded killer all this time. Partnered up with a descendant of Lord Voldemort’s. Enthusiastically took part in making Albus’s life unbearable. 

“Wipe that pathetic look off your face, homo.” Yann clamored, his fathomless black eyes slicing into Albus’s.

“Shut up!” Albus snarled, doing his absolute best to restrain himself from hexing Yann. Albus dabbed the blood off of his nose, smearing it all over his unsoiled white shirt. “You’re going to be thrown in Azkaban in a heartbeat.” A small slow smile warped on Albus’s once serious face. The idea of sending Yann to Azkaban with the Dementors crawling in every corner, sucking the happiness right out of Yann’s soul made Albus gleeful as ever. He wasn’t sure if this made him a bad person or not. He hoped the latter. “Can’t wait to go to the Ministry and inform them that you are Delphi’s accomplice. An accessory in such crimes. They won’t take that too lightly, I’m sure.”

“Like they’d believe you.” Yann huffed. “In case you haven’t noticed, I’m underage.” He added vindictively, as if he had given this some extra thought. “Reckon that means my sentence will not be severe. They can’t punish me for this.” 

“They can and they will.” Albus assured him, taking a wary step forward, his wand still clasped in his hand, as if he were waiting for Yann to duel him. “You’re working with a killer. You’ve used the Cruciatus Curse on us multiple times. You won’t get away with this. I won’t let you. Not to mention I’ve got my Dad and Aunt Hermione on my side.” 

Yann chucked dryly, flipping his slick cherry coloured hair away from his pitiless eyes. “Like that Mudblood and the Boy Who Stopped the Dark Lord scare me.”

Albus’s insides gave an uncomfortable squirm at the reprehensible word Mudblood, but chose to ignore this. “Oh you should be scared.” His eyes darkened at once. “Very scared. My Dad won’t take the idea of you torturing my boyfriend too well, I imagine. Let’s not forget you sent me a dangerous dark artifact that resembled the work of Umbridge.”

“Your Dad doesn’t even know his son is a fag, now does he?” He glowered at Albus spitefully. 

“Stop it!” Albus roared, pretending that derogatory word didn’t slice his soul in two and even more so that Scorpius was right there, listening to it all. “Don’t use that word.” 

“Make me.” Yann shot back. He glanced at Delphi now, smirking. “Can you imagine Potter’s reaction?”

“Oh yes,” Delphi joined in enthusiastically, revealing her white teeth with her large, growing grin, “Probably would wish you were never his son…oh wait…he already said that, now didn’t he?” She simpered, enjoying the thrill of getting beneath Albus’s skin.

Albus mentally cursed himself for ever befriending Delphi. He remembered, when Harry had forced Scorpius and Albus apart, Albus would lean to Delphi for comfort. He recalled stupidly confiding in her about his strained relationship with his father, foolishly mentioning the heated argument he once had with Harry. That terrible fight when Harry had admitted there were times when Harry wished Albus was never his…

Albus tried his best to shake that feeling away. To free himself from the unspeakable, overwhelming fireworks of feelings which devastated him to the core. Those sinister emotions and thoughts of uncertainty, abandonment and self-loathing were bubbling back to the surface, no matter how hard Albus tried to drown them. Yes, his Dad had said that he wished Albus was never his but his Dad certainly didn’t mean it. Harry had apologized to him countless of times for that horrible remark. He, like Albus, had only uttered those words in a moment of anger. Even so, that didn’t stop Albus from feeling worthless at times. Feeling like he wasn’t good enough to be Harry’s son. No. Albus shouldn’t think of that, anymore. It was over. It was all over. His relationship with his Dad was different now. Things between him and his father were surely mending. Yann and Delphi were only reminding him of this to simply anger him. 

Yann’s black eyes travelled back to Albus, pricking him like thorns. “He’d probably disown you if he knew you were gay…who could blame him?”

“ENOUGH!” Albus said, louder this time, hoping that would be enough. 

Albus pondered deeply if he should hex him or not. He let out a deep sigh of frustration. Perhaps it’s best to just say nothing. They wanted to get him angry. That is why they were saying all of these cruel things to him. What they were saying about him—about his Dad…it couldn’t be true, could it? His Dad wouldn’t send him to live out in the streets if he found out Albus was gay, now would he? No, no. Harry would understand, wouldn’t he? He wouldn’t mind that he was gay…right? Harry wouldn’t find it a big of a deal that Albus was madly in love with Scorpius Malfoy? Albus hoped, with all of his heart, that Harry wouldn’t hate him. Of course, they never had talked about the subject. It never came up. It would come of a surprise, no doubt. Although James had told him it wouldn’t be too much of a shock given that James casually makes rather romantic jokes about Albus and Scorpius. Then again, his Dad could be blank sometimes. His Mum might know. Surely she suspected her son’s sexuality? That meant she and Harry talked about Albus, right? That they both shared their feelings with one another how they feel about Albus possibly being gay? Were they supportive? Against it? Albus was unsure. Now, at this very moment, Albus wished—wanted so badly to come out to his Dad. Now. Scorpius already had come out to his. He wondered how that went. It must have gone well with that excited and accepting look drawn on Draco’s face. Albus had to grind his teeth and do it. He had to tell his Dad and Mum about who he was. He wanted to tell them about Scorpius—the boy he was deeply in love with. He wanted to tell them that he liked kissing boys and never thought of girls like that. He would do it—come out to his parents. The fear he once was consumed with had faded to dust. Now it was his turn. It was Albus’s turn to come out. The question of course was when? Albus and Scorpius just had to make it out of the cellar safely. They had to find a way to get away from Delphi and Yann. 

Albus couldn’t believe Yann. How could he do this? All of this, and not feel a shred of guilt? Or remorse? Yann couldn’t possibly be this evil, now could he? First, he’s a homophobic bully, and now he’s a servant of Delphi’s? Could he get any worse? 

Another thought took over Albus. It was something he should have considered earlier. Perhaps Yann didn’t want to do any of this? Perhaps…Yann was doing all of this against his will? Perhaps he was being puppetted by Delphi all along?

“Why’d you do it?” Albus chewed on his lip savagely. “Why are you working with her?” He prodded. “Has she used Imperio on you? Is that it?” He was firing question after question, not giving Yann a second to answer any of it.

There was a slight pause. Yann’s eyes shifted from Delphi to Albus, smirking. “No.” He remarked. “Didn’t make me do anything. I wanted to do it. All of it.”

Albus now knew he had to do whatever he could to keep Yann talking. He needed to give Harry and Draco time to come find them.

“You sent me the Quill?” 

Yann’s black eyes set on Delphi’s who nodded approvingly at him. It seemed like he had to wait for her permission before revealing any details of their little plan. “Delphi told me to deliver it to you. I got it off Draco Malfoy. Said he didn’t want it, so I took it. Showed it to Delphi and she wrote you that note. Then I left it in your bedroom for you to find. Didn’t know you would have a ball, using that Quill, now did I? Perhaps you really are mad, like everyone says…”

“I’m not mad!” Albus disputed. He stared at Delphi, desperately seeking answers. “Why the Quill? Why the note?”

“The note,” Delphi said quietly as she smacked her periwinkle lips together, “is a prophecy. Your prophecy.” 

“I…I d-don’t have one.” Albus faltered. 

“You do,” Delphi insisted, releasing the Augurey mask from her hand, and watching it float about the cellar in a ghost-like manner. “It’s called an Ill-Fated Prophecy. Your Prophecy can come true if you read it. But—if you—if you throw it away as an attempt to forget about it just as your cowardly parents did, there is a much lower chance of it coming true.”

“My parents?” Albus repeated. “They…t-they know about this?”

Delphi grinned. “Why of course, dear Albus. They are the ones who decided to forget about your Prophecy in the first place. Stupid parents wanted nothing to do with it so they casted it away when you were born. Kept it hidden deep within the Department of Mysteries, thinking you were better off that way."

“Stop trying to turn my parents against me!” Albus shouted. “Just because you have no relationship with your parents, doesn’t mean I have to walk down your same tragic path.”

“DO NOT TALK ABOUT MY PARENTS TO ME, ALBUS POTTER!” Delphi thundered.

“I don’t believe anything you say.” Albus rolled his eyes irritably, holding the least bit of kindness and respect for her. “You’re nothing but a pathological liar!”

“I’M NOT LYING, BOY!” Delphi clumped her foot on the ground ridiculously. “You do have a Prophecy. Ask your miserable parents. How stupid could they be to conceal its very existence from you? You are an ambitious wizard, always wanting to seek out the truth. You’d think they would love you enough to owe you that much. I suggest you ask them about your Prophecy once and for all. They’ll tell you all about it. They won’t be too happy that you discovered it, now would they? Pity. They made a mistake, hiding it from you. Hiding it from everyone. Prophecies, like the truth, aren’t meant to be hidden. They must and will come out, sooner or later. I was granted access to your Ill-Fated Prophecy. You can thank me later, if you like. You’re being rather ungrateful, I must say. Where would you be without this Prophecy? Knew it would be proper to hand over the Prophecy to you. Thought it would be righteous to give it to you.”

“What could you possibly know about being righteous?” Albus laughed coldly. 

Delphi’s gleaming red eyes ran up and down Albus’s injured arms. “More than you, and that quite certainly is saying something.” 

Yann pointed his wand at Scorpius’s curled body. “When can we kill him, Mistress?”

Delphi was suddenly taken aback with rage. “YOU USELESS FOOL! DON’T YOU UNDERSTAND? WE AREN’T KILLING HIM!” She screamed. 

“What?” Yann was irrefutably disappointed, his shoulders dropped down dramatically. “Why not?”

“Because,” Delphi scowled, “he’s part of the Sacred Twenty Eight.”

Albus’s mouth fell open. “The what?”

“Right, I reckon you know nothing of the Sacred Twenty-Eight, now do you?” Delphi sighed loudly, obviously aggravated of having to repeat herself. “Very well. There are Twenty-Eight known wizarding families who are truly pure. Purebloods. The Malfoys is one of them. Noted to be one of the most respected of the Sacred Twenty-Eight. Oh and let’s not forget about my Mum’s side—the dearest Blacks. They go as far as inbreeding to keep the blood pure. Oh don’t look so disgusted, Albus. Sometimes, you must go at great lengths to keep everything in line. Even I must admit, that idea has crossed my mind…”

Albus threw her a despicable glance. “What for the love of Dumbledore, are you going on about?”

“The Malfoys.” Delphi trilled. Flicking out her hand, she summoned two mauve cushioned chairs, which skittered by her side. “Sit.” She instructed.

Albus folded his arms. “No, I’ll stand.”

“Fine,” she rolled her eyes and quickly sat down on the chair, crossing one leg over the other, linking her fingers together. “Draco Malfoy’s wife—a most terrible Mudblood and Muggle-loving lunatic—died. Which leaves Draco alone. That means the bloodline for the Malfoys had died the moment Astoria took her final breath.”

“Perhaps he’ll wed someone when he’s ready?” Albus suggested. 

“Poor lad won’t ever be ready,” Delphi muttered. “This, I know. But Scorpius…Scorpius must wed a Pureblood…”

“What are you saying?” Albus asked, leaning away from the crazed glisten in her bloodshot eyes. 

A large, knowing grin formed on Delphi’s face, her dimple as present as ever. “Scorpius must be the Malfoy to keep the bloodline pure. He must wed a Pureblood. Wherever is he going to find one, I wonder? A smart, ambitious, loyal Pureblood?” She sang in her hauntingly high pitched voice. “A good Pureblood. A Pureblood who knows how important it is to keep the Sacred Twenty Eight alive…”

“I know what you’re thinking, you sick monster!” Albus spat, clenching his teeth. “And I won’t—won’t let you.”

“Let me?” Delphi’s eyes flashed dangerously. “Let me?

“You’re not going to—I won’t let you.” Albus shook his head. “He won’t ever go through with it. He doesn’t even fancy girls. Let alone his twisted, sick cousin who is nothing more than a killer desperate to be a part of something with meaning. You are nothing, Delphi. You will always be nothing. Your parents are Bellatrix Lestrange and Lord Voldemort. Big deal. That doesn’t mean you are something. You are nothing. Do you hear me? NOTHING!”

Delphi smiled at him, but her red eyes were nearly as empty and dejected as the Augurey tattoo that was drawn on the bone of her milky shoulder.

“Do not use my parents’ names in vain, Albus.” She warned. “Surely by now, you know how naturally skilled and gifted I am…”

Albus didn’t want to stop. He wasn’t done with her. He hadn’t said his piece yet. “You will never measure up to your parents.” He went on. “Even when you met your Dad that night, he wanted nothing to do with you. You remember that encounter, don’t you? Probably something you wished you could forget—which is why you had asked my Dad to wipe your memories. Which is why you begged for death. And now—? Now you are trying to fill that empty void by keeping the Sacred Twenty-Eight alive? What does that prove? Blood is meaningless. Being a Pureblood means nothing in the Wizarding World—”

“NOTHING IN THE WIZARDING WORLD?” Delphi parroted, furious now. “IT MEANS EVERYTHING!”

“No.” Albus replied hotly. “It means nothing. It is fanatics like you that make one’s blood status determine how valuable they are. If you think I am going to let you try to make Scorpius part of the Sacred Twenty-Eight with you, then I’m sorry, but you’re wrong. The Sacred Twenty-Eight ends with the Malfoys. There are twenty seven other families who are just as obsessive as you are. Why not bother them instead? Because guess what—we—we aren’t interested! Draco will not allow it. Rose won’t allow it. James won’t allow it. Blimey, my parents won’t even allow it! And I certainly will not allow it! If Scorpius Malfoy is going to marry anyone, it’s going to be me!” 

Hang on. What did he just say?

If Scorpius Malfoy is going to marry anyone, it’s going to be me!

Marrying—marrying Scorpius? Scorpius Malfoy? Marrying…marrying him? They were only fifteen! Marriage was a long way ahead in the future. Albus hadn’t thought about marriage at such a great length before…but even so, he knew…he knew there was no one else he would rather walk hand in hand down the aisle with… 

“YOU?” Delphi guffawed, throwing her head back, cackling. She wiped the streams of tears leaking down her face. She clenched her hands onto the arm rests of the chair. “DON’T SPEAK SUCH RUBBISH, BOY!”

“I’m not the one talking about marrying my cousin in order to keep the Bloodline pure.” Albus shot back. “You’re sick. Truly sick. I’m not going to let that happen.”

Delphi’s eyebrows shot up. “Oh, we’ll see.” She gritted. 

Kill her. He heard a chilling voice whisper. You know the spell, Albus Potter. Kill her. She’s only a spare. Look what she did to your friend, over there. Now she wants to recruit him to be a part of the Sacred Twenty Eight with her. Surely, you will not stand there and watch it all unfold before your very eyes? You could make it all right again. One spell. One spell and this will all be over. One spell, and justice will finally be served. One spell, and you will be rewarded…

“N-no.” Albus shuddered, spinning around the disconsolate cellar aimlessly while keeping a watchful eye on Scorpius. “I-I c-can’t.” His eyes moved over to the roof, wondering if the voice was coming from there. “Won’t.” 

Yann snorted. “Pathetic little git.” He muttered beneath his breath. “You really are mad.”

“The connection,” Delphi said quietly, her eyes feasted perilously on Albus, “I see it’s getting stronger.” Her eyes grew wide. “Get him, Yann.” She nudged him.

“Quickly!” 

“I wasn’t even finished with him! Can’t I—?”

“No!” Delphi cried, exasperated. “We haven’t gotten time for your schoolboy rivalry! This is priority.” 

“Fine.” Yann groaned, grabbing Albus’s shoulders and shoving him in front of Delphi. “There.”

“Excuse me?” Delphi cried, rising from her chair. “IS THAT HOW YOU SPEAK TO ME? IS THAT HOW YOU ADDRESS ME?”

Yann backed away from her apologetically, his arms raising, trying his best to calm her down. His voice was no longer gruff and angry but surprisingly gentle and calm. “I’m sorry, Delphini. Didn’t mean that...”

“THOUGHT YOU WOULD KNOW BETTER BY NOW!” She shouted.

Albus watched the two quarrel, torn between waiting and rushing over to Scorpius to get him out of the hex he had paralyzed him in. Would it be prudent to stand here and wait for them? Delphi only wanted Albus to self-inflict, after all. It wasn’t worth it. Scorpius was right. This wasn’t the way. He had promised Scorpius he wouldn’t do it again. Promised his brother, James. Albus’s cuts were somewhat faded. What would James think if Albus came back, with fresh ones? What would his little sister, Lily say? How could he possibly explain himself to his parents? His parents! They…they kept Albus’s Prophecy from them! How could they do that—? Albus felt a layer of betrayal and bitterness. His Prophecy…he had a Prophecy! What was it again? Oh yes. 

Use me as your own personal noose  
Your lover’s blood is now on the loose  
A tortured mind will go mad  
Death shall take the second Dad

Delphi had told him that Ill-Fated Prophecies are different from normal ones. She said that Ill-Fated Prophecies have a slim chance of coming true if they are left untouched and undiscovered. But…but Delphi has Albus’s Prophecy. She sent him a note about his Prophecy. That means, there is a high chance of it coming true. He didn’t understand the Prophecy. All he knew is that the fourth line sent shivers up and down his spine.

Death shall take the second Dad

The Angel of Death was not going to take Scorpius’s Dad nor was it going to take Albus’s. The longer they stayed here, the higher risk of this Prophecy coming true. The higher risk of Albus witnessing the death of his own father. The death of Scorpius’s father. Harry and Draco were supposingly on their way, weren’t they? 

They had to leave.

Now.

Albus’s eyes met the light blonde hair of Scorpius’s who was laying facedown on the ground. If there was going to be any chance of escaping, Albus had better start running to him—and quickly. 

“That—that tone was inappropriate.” Albus heard Yann mutter, watching Delphi back him into a corner, her chin pointed up. “Y-you must know I only reserve the highest respect for you, Delphini. Only you…”

Albus aimed his wand at Yann. It was best to take them out one by one. They were deadlier as a team. 

“Obscuro!”

Yann let out a frenzied shout, cupping his eyes. “I CAN’T SEE!” He howled, paralyzed in immediate fear, waving his arms frantically in the arm, nearly hitting Delphi in the face. “MERLIN’S BEARD! I CAN’T SEE ANYTHING!”

“Will you calm down?” Delphi groaned. “You’re only temporarily blind, by the looks of it…”

“How can I look?” Yann whined. “Can’t see a damn thing!”

“Accio!” Albus shouted, opening his left hand, and Yann’s Hawthorne wand hovered towards Albus, who beamed victoriously.

“CRUCIO!” Delphi screamed, but Yann accidentally whacked her arm, which caused the spell to fire elsewhere. 

“YOU FOOL!” Delphi bellowed. 

Albus dove beside Scorpius, quickly muttering the countercurse. Scorpius gasped and wiggled his body upwards, clutching onto Albus’s hands for support. He gave Albus a sour look, although Albus thought he looked most adorable when he was upset. Albus hid a smile. “Know you want to yell at me, but we haven’t gotten much time.” Albus placed Yann’s wand into his left hand, while holding the other. “Come fight alongside with me, Scorp.”

“From what I can tell,” Scorpius said coldly, moving the wand to his right hand and glaring at him intensely, “you’re doing just fine on your own.”

“I need you, you dork,” Albus confessed, pecking a kiss on his forehead. The moment his lips touched Scorpius’s face, the anger in his face seemed to dissolve. “Okay? I can’t do this without you. I made a mistake using the Full-Binding Body curse on you. I’m sorry. I-I need you.” 

“You need me?” Scorpius repeated.

“Yeah.” 

“And you want to marry me too, do you?” Scorpius grinned. 

Albus blushed so much that Scorpius could have sworn he felt the heat of Albus’s face reach his own. “I do.” Albus admitted, hoping this wouldn’t be the last time he said those two words to Scorpius Malfoy. Scorpius’s grin was so large and delightful that Albus had to glance away from him to keep himself from turning redder, if that was even possible. Scorpius couldn’t believe his own ears! Albus wanted…wanted to marry him? Him? Naturally, that would be many years away, but it was most comforting to know that Albus had felt that way about him. Before Scorpius could respond, Albus quickly changed the subject. “Get up. Let’s fight.” He mumbled, taking Scorpius’s hand and helping him up. “Can you—can you walk?” He asked him. 

“Kind of.” Scorpius aimed his wand at Yann, who was pathetically hobbling around. “Expulso!” He hollered.

Yann was hoisted from the ground and thrown into the brick wall. He stumbled to the floor, unconscious. 

Albus smiled with his eyes. “Impressive, Scorp. Where’d you learn that?”

Scorpius turned scarlet at Albus’s compliment. “T-t-the library.” He answered. Scorpius aimed his wand at Delphi. “Locomotor Wibbly!”

“The Jelly-Legs Curse.” Albus muttered, realizing the nature of the spell Scorpius had uttered, appearing taken aback once more by Scorpius’s remarkable spell-casting. “Nice, going.” He encouraged. 

But Delphi raised her arm in the air, blocking the curse with her bare hands. 

“Yes. Well. Maybe not so nice.” Scorpius said. 

With Delphi being capable of blocking extremely powerful curses, jinxes and hexes, they would be trapped down here for eternity. There was no use duelling her. She was far too strong. Although when Albus had tried the Cruciatus Curse, it remarkably had affected her. He had inflicted so much pain on her. He couldn’t possibly lie to himself—he did want to do it again. The sound of her screaming…wailing in agony brought comfort and elation to his veins. Was he—? Was he really that person? That person who fed off another person’s pain? No, no of course not. He was just angry at her. He had every reason to be. She bloodied up his boyfriend for goodness sake! Maybe he should use the Cruciatus Curse on her once more. Serves her right for what she did! At the same time, when Albus used that curse against Delphi, Scorpius did look quite disturbed. It made sense. Scorpius had been a victim of that curse plenty of times, after all. Albus did not want to re-traumatize his boyfriend. There must be something Albus could do. Another plan to set things right. Some other way of escaping. Albus stared at the bricked wall to his right and was hit with a brilliant idea. Disapparating was out of the question, given the cellar was charmed. They had to simply find another way out. 

“Bombarda Maxima!” He cried. 

The brick wall where Albus had pointed his wand to had exploded violently. There was a loud, booming CRASH. 

“GET DOWN!” Albus yelled, tumbling on top of Scorpius to protect him from the destruction he had caused. But Scorpius pushed him off in no time.

Albus was bewildered by this. “W-what are you doing—?” 

Scorpius cast himself in front of Albus, pointing his wand in the air. “Protego Maxima!” 

A large bright bluish transparent bubble formed from the tip of Scorpius’s wand, nesting itself on top of both Scorpius and Albus, to shield them from any of the tumbling bricks and other dark spells and jinxes that Delphi might be tempted to use on them.

Mouldy red and black bricks spit across the gloomy cellar everywhere, thumping drastically onto the floor. Greyish pebbles trickled down the large hole that now occupied the cellar. The cemented blocks continued soaring messily in the air, some dirty slabs hitting Yann’s unmoving body. Surely, he was knocked out for good. Delphi watched the scene, with both of her hands in the air, ready to strike back, in case a brick were to flip onto her face. Delphi’s expression was most horrified. Clearly, she was not expecting any of this. 

Scorpius latched onto Albus’s hand, pulling him towards the oval shaped entrance of the disastrous bricked wall. “See that staircase? Leads directly to my room. Let’s get out of here!” 

“NONE OF YOU ARE GOING ANYWHERE!” Delphi howled, spinning her wand in her hand. “CRUCIO!”

But with the hovering blue bubble blanketing both boys like the fresh summer sky, the curse was useless, unable to penetrate through. Scorpius kept his fingers threaded with Albus, and ran into the opened mouth of the messy piles of bricks, hiking up the silver staircase. 

A white cold hand caught Albus from the feet of the stairs, throwing him down onto the floor, breaking the protective enchantment. 

“ALBUS!” Scorpius screamed in horror, spinning around. 

A tall thin man with a distracted, detached facial expression and very dark hair appeared before them. Delphi’s eyes seemed to soften at his sight. 

“The both of you are staying put.” His voice was a quiet, calm whisper. “I can promise you, Delphi is not done with either of you.” He moved his long silk black hair away from his piercing blue eyes. Albus grunted in pain, and scrambled to his feet, tangling his fingers with Scorpius’s. The man shoved him backwards, piercing his wand hard into Albus’s spine, leading the two boys towards Delphi. 

“Who is he—?” Albus whispered to Scorpius. 

Scorpius suddenly could not bear to meet Albus’s eyes. “W-w-we…w-we should…s-s-should probably do what…w-whatever he says.” Scorpius stuttered in grim defeat. 

“W-what’s going on, Scorp?” Albus asked in a rather small voice, securing a steady grip on Scorpius’s hand, so sure they would somehow separate from one another yet again. The man took his wand off of Albus’s back—who slightly relaxed at that moment. Albus was sure this man would attack them in no time. He had to do something. He couldn’t just stand there and wait for the man to jinx them. Albus dangled his own wand in front of Delphi and the strange man.

“Filpen—”

“Expelliarmus!” The man said lazily.

Instantly, Albus’s wand was knocked out of his hand, skittering to the floor. Scorpius quickly pushed his own wand into his robes, trusting this would go unnoticed. 

The man was wearing a fine black suit and a long green robe that swept the floor. He, like Yann, had a large hood pulled up to his head. However, was not wearing an Augurey mask. His face was quite plain and rather diminished. His eyes were coated with hues of resentment. His thinning, curly black hair was combed down to his shoulders like a barb of tangled wire, shaded with fat specks of grey and white. His unshaven mustache and grubby beard were presently white as ever. His sleeves were rolled to his elbows, revealing the faded Dark Mark. This man evidentially was a former Death Eater.

Delphi gave the man a toothy grin and ran into his opened arms. He did not return her smile, but instead, nodded at her and scooped Delphi off the floor, who let out a surprised squeal, both embracing one another. 

Albus was utterly bewildered. “For the love of Dumbledore, what is going on—?”

“T-that’s Rodolphus.” Scorpius whispered.

“Rodolphus?” Albus gasped. “Rodolphus Lestrange?”

“Bellatrix’s husband, yes.” Scorpius lowered his voice, absolutely terrified by the ghostly expression on his voice. “D-don’t you r-r-remember what Delphi told us? She had no one to look after her with both of her parents being dead. Euphemia Rowle took her in shortly after her birth. But Euphemia Rowle was anything but kind towards her. The only reason she ever looked after Delphi was because he—R-R-Rodolphus—gave her gold. Gave her gold to look after her.” 

“Git.” Albus muttered. “Should have let her fend for herself. Why does he care for her anyway?”

“B-because regardless of the circumstances,” Scorpius said lightly, his own words hitting him in the gut, “they’re blood.” 

“What do you mean by that?”

“Y-you can’t run away from who you are.” Scorpius muttered.

“You’re not her, Scorp. You’re not him, either.” Albus said gently. 

“Hope you’re right.”

“I am.” Albus promised, waiting for him to look a bit more relaxed but Scorpius's face was quite pale with fright. “What's wrong, Scorp?” He murmured quietly. 

“I've seen him before. At the Manor. Dad nearly lost it when he saw him,” Scorpius said in a startled voice. “Kicked him out. Told him to never step foot in the Manor again.”

Albus’s green eyes narrowed to Delphi and the man, who, in that moment, released her. Delphi grinned at him, her red eyes determined and hopeful. They did look similar in some ways. The dark black hair. The hooked nose. The creamy white skin. 

“This is bad,” Scorpius whispered, staring at the pair, “you don’t understand—we need to leave now…”

“How?” Albus turned to look at Scorpius’s most petrified expression. “How are we supposed to leave?”

“I don’t know, but—” Scorpius was interrupted by Delphi’s booming voice.

“Rodolphus, do not think I dislike your presence, because believe me, I adore it.” Delphi told him. “But I am wondering why you are here.”

“Heard a crash,” Rodolphus said softly, “came to see if you were hurt.”

“You’re supposed to be upstairs, watching that ugly rat-looking elf…”

“ELFIE!” Scorpius yelled. “WHAT HAVE YOU DONE TO HER? HAVE YOU HURT HER?”

Rodolphus’s brown eyes slapped itself onto Scorpius’s furious face and scowled. “You are the son of Malfoy. I know you. Seen you here before with your Blood Traitor, father.” He stared at Scorpius’s hand which was linked with Albus’s and squinted his nose. “Seems to me Malfoy’s got himself a disgusting son, disgracing the Malfoy’s name. Astonishes me that you are Pureblood. You bring a great embarrassment to your entire family…”

“Don’t talk to him like that!” Albus snapped. 

“Albus, don’t!”

Rodolphus frowned at him, stomping towards him until his face was uncomfortably close to Albus’s. “Have you lost your manners, boy? Forgot who you’re speaking to?”

Albus stuck his nose in the air. “I disregard any manners when it comes to interacting with people who support fanatics like Delphi. You don’t terrify me the slightest. You do, however, anger me by insulting Scorpius. Don’t talk to him like he’s scum. You are.”

Rodolphus directed his wand at Albus. Within moments, blood splattered on his face. Albus wiped the streaks of red with the back of his hand. 

“Albus!” Scorpius cried.

“I’m fine, Scorp.” Albus muttered, glaring at Rodolphus with every ounce of hatred. 

“Your father most certainly did not provoke me with such fear. Neither can you. You’re most fortunate Delphi wants you alive, Albus Potter, otherwise you would be dead by now.” Rodolphus nodded at Delphi. “The House-Elf is gagged and bounded.”

“NO ELFIE!” Scorpius screamed. “LET HER GO! SHE WON’T COME HERE. SHE WON’T HELP US! PLEASE LET HER GO! PLEASE! PLEASE!”

Rodolphus ignored him, his blinding blue eyes scanning the cold cellar. “The Elf is being watched by Rosier and Bulstrode.”

“I have a problem,” Delphi told him. “Albus Potter is not cooperating with me. All I need from him is to continue the lines.”

“Ahh.” Rodolphus nodded. “Yes. That is essential.” 

“He’s being stubborn!” Delphi sighed. “What do you suggest I do? If Scorpius takes one more curse by me, he will likely be deceased within a mere minute.”

“Perhaps kill that ugly elf.” Rodolphus smirked. “I reckon that ought to encourage Albus to comply. I’d do it fast if I were you. We don’t want Potter and Malfoy interrupting anything…”

“NO!” Scorpius bellowed. “N-NOT ELFIE. ANYTHING BUT HER. P-PLEASE DON’T—YOU CAN’T!”

“Tell your boyfriend to cooperate, and Elfie will not be harmed.” Delphi grinned.

“I-I c-can’t.” Scorpius was fighting back tears.

“Then your ghastly elf will die. Just like your Mum.”

“Give me the damn Quill.” Albus snarled. 

Delphi grinned. “Thought you’d listen, Albus.” She forced the Quill and note in his shaking hands. “Finish what you started. Just a few more lines, Albus Severus…”

“Albus, we can’t…y-you can’t…”

“I’M NOT GOING TO LET ELFIE DIE FOR ME!” Albus exploded. “Okay? You—you can’t lose her! I won’t allow it!” 

Scorpius was horrified. “I can’t lose you, either!” He latched harder onto Albus. 

“You won’t.” Albus promised, carefully taking Scorpius’s warm hands off of him. “I’m not going anywhere. N-now close your eyes…”

“Wait wait!” Delphi sang. She wiggled her fingers, and the purple armchair that Delphi was once sitting on, soared fantastically into the air, landing just behind Albus. 

“Why don’t you take a seat, dear one?”

“F-fine.” Albus shrugged, slipping into the leather chair, and seizing the Quill while rereading the note once more. He met eye contact with Scorpius. “‘Use me as your own personal noose. Your lover’s blood is now on the loose. A tortured mind will go mad. Death shall take the second Dad.’”

“I’ve cracked it,” Scorpius told him hurriedly, “and by the looks of it, everything came true. Everything but the last one…which is why we need to go and f-f-find another solution…a-a-another way out…”

“‘Death shall take the second Dad.” Albus said, his eyes widening. “‘Death shall take the second Dad. Death shall take the—”

“Albus, stop it!” Scorpius cried. “D-don’t you get it? It’s an Ill-Fated Prophecy. The more you read it. The more you fixate on it. The more likelihood of it coming true.” 

Albus grinned. ‘Death shall take the second Dad. Death shall take the second Dad. Death—’”

“STOP IT!” Scorpius begged. “Delphi, what have you done to him? Why is he behaving this way?”

“Beats me.” Delphi shrugged, although she appeared quite amused. “The lines, Albus Severus. Do them.” 

“I have one request!” Albus commanded. “B-before I do this…b-bbefore I do the lines, l-let me erm…hug Scorpius first.”

Rodolphus pointed his wand at Albus, determined to hex him, but was stopped by Delphi’s hiss of disapproval.

“Leave him!” She demanded. “Very well, Albus. You may.” It seemed, in front of Rodolphus, she wanted to be on her best behaviour. She wanted to wear a mask of calmness and righteousness even though she had a stubbornly short temper, rather like Bellatrix once had. 

Scorpius stared at Delphi, astonished she had agreed to it. Rodolphus was glaring at Scorpius, his eyes set on his like sharp daggers. It was as if he were seeing Scorpius as if he were a Glumbumble he could effortlessly terminate with the back of his rangy boot. His eyes were hard and cold, rather like Delphi’s. Scorpius swallowed an uncomfortable lump in his throat and awkwardly trudged in front of Albus, peering down into his divine green eyes. 

“What has gotten your wand in a knot?” Scorpius asked pacifyingly. 

Albus caught hold of his shoulders, pulling him into a long embrace. “I’ve figured out the last line, Scorp!” He whispered hastily, sounding very much like himself again. “Do you…do you trust me?”

“Of course.” Scorpius answered, looking pensive. 

“Then let me do this.”


	16. The Cursed Connection

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TRIGGER WARNING: CUTTING/SELF INFLICTION

Scorpius, rather unwillingly, drifted away from Albus, skimming out of their ardent embrace, his jaw still half-opened. Of course he trusted Albus. He trusted him with his life, for goodness sake! But even so, it was still quite impossible to shake off that peevish voice in the back of his mind which kept heckling him to remain locked in their hug—to not draw away from him—to disobey Albus’s cryptic orders.

Scorpius wasn’t sure what Albus had planned. What was he was rambling about? It wasn’t what Scorpius had feared, now was it? He wasn’t really—he couldn’t possibly be contemplating the unimaginable! Albus wasn’t going to…to…hurt himself? Right now? In front of him? Surely, Albus knew better than to do that. Albus said he had everything solved. He said he figured out the final line of the Prophecy. That meant…that meant things would soon be okay. It meant everything would go back to the way things were. Then again, who was Scorpius trying to fool? Things could never go back to the way they once were. Everything was going to change now. Never mind now—things were already changing. Everything in Scorpius’s life were transforming quicker than a werewolf during the first sight of a full moon. Before any of this, he was just Scorpius—Scorpius Malfoy. He was Scorpius dating Rose. Now he was Scorpius dating Albus. And his Dad—? His Dad knew he was gay. Delphi said she had controlled him. She used him as her puppet and invaded his thoughts. Before any of that happened—before he was taken over by Imperio—he did seem accepting of it all, didn’t he? Things with his Dad…had always been a bit rocky, and even more so since his Mum had passed. But Scorpius had hope their relationship would be solid as gold now—especially since Scorpius came out to him. That is what Scorpius was hoping for, at least. What terrified him the most was Harry Potter’s reaction to it all. Harry always seemed to hate Scorpius as soon as he set eyes on him. Actually scratch that last. Harry had hated Scorpius since he found out that Albus and he were best friends. More to that, Scorpius was never invited to their house—he had never set foot in Godric’s Hollow. Not once. Even when Harry and Ginny came at the Manor to pick Albus up, Ginny would smile pleasantly at Scorpius while Harry would give him a pained and rather forced smile. Harry would probably spit at him if he knew he was in love with his son. 

Scorpius tried to empty out his mind, but he found it quite difficult to do so. There were so many pressing issues attacking him relentlessly until his head was splitting with pain. Scorpius wished he could switch off such anxiety and raise his hands in surrender, beseeching for mercy. It was all too much. Fret after fret. Everything was changing by the mere minute. Surely, he would face each individual problem accordingly. What mattered most was the problem right in front of him. He needed them to stop. Scorpius just needed Delphi and Rodolphus to leave them alone. To uncharm the cellar so they could escape. It wasn’t bad enough that they were trapped here. To make matters worse was they held his second best friend captive: Elfie. He could imagine her perky brown face meshed in a perplexed grimace while her pinkish, tanned ears drooped in misery. She was probably frightened by it all—having former Death Eaters stand on guard, their wands pointed hostilely at her. He could imagine it now. It was so cruel. He wanted to leave the cellar at once to find her. To assure her everything was going to be just fine. 

Scorpius blinked, stealing a quick gaze from his boyfriend, who appeared just as startled as he was. He hated that they were landed in such a situation. Scorpius didn’t enjoy this one bit. What he craved—what he yearned for—was to be alone with Albus again. What he wouldn’t give to have two minutes alone with him. Two minutes to hear the thumping of his heartbeat. To feel the ridges of his fingertips. To taste his honeyed lips. Scorpius felt like they were parting ways. Saying goodbye. Scorpius wasn’t sure if he was going to make it out of this alive. If Albus was. Was this really how their story ended? They were just getting started. Scorpius wanted to protect him from all of this. He wanted to pretend that none of this terror, none of this anguish ever existed. He wanted nothing more than to kiss Albus’s pain away. 

Scorpius shook his head, defying what his brain had told him and instead, listened with his heart. He hovered towards Albus, speaking fast, positive that life itself was slipping away from his bare hands. That they were acting on borrowed time. 

“W-w-w-we n-need t-t-o leave.” He said faintly, ripping the Quill out of Albus’s hand and setting it aside on the parchment. Scorpius folded his hand with his, jerking back slightly due to the surprising frosty temperature of Albus’s tender palms. “Just—hear me out. I don’t care that you’ve—” He dropped down his voice so they wouldn’t be overheard. “…figured it out. It doesn’t matter. We’ve got to go.” He urged. 

Albus spoke in hushed tones. “No one’s going to die.” He said gravely. “It’ll be alright…”

“You’re not going to—you can’t use that bloody Quill. Do you hear me? Using the Quill isn’t going to solve anything, Albus!” Scorpius argued. “It’ll just make matters worst. You’re asking me to trust you, and I do. But please…p-p-please…trust me. I-I have…have a bad feeling about this…”

“AWAY FROM HIM!” Rodolphus shrieked, his face demented with an unexpected burst of vitriol. He charged towards Scorpius with his cloak raking all over the marbled floor, looking quite much like a large winged bat. “DO NOT INTERFERE.” He jagged his wand at him menacingly, shifting his blue eyes from Scorpius to Albus. “BACK. AWAY. NOW.” 

Scorpius didn’t want to leave Albus’s side. He wasn’t going to listen to whatever Rodolphus said. He would not abandon Albus. Not like this. 

Scorpius creased his grey eyes into a venomous glare. “No!” He fought back.

“YOU REPULSIVE PUREBLOOD! HOW DARE YOU SMEAR THE MALFOY NAME LIKE THIS?” Rodolphus thundered, his voice as deadly as the crack of lightning. “HOW DARE YOU DISOBEY ME?”

Scorpius shot him a deleterious look, ignoring the man’s every attempt to fatally wound him with the power of speech. “Let. Us. Go.” He rumbled indignantly. “Let us go and we won’t breathe a word to anyone about went on here.” 

“LOOK AT YOU!” Rodolphus grimaced coolly. “Making orders to me. Me. You’re nothing but a useless child. You are not the one who has all the power here. Surely you know that by now? It astonishes me that you are arrogant enough to think you can actually beat two well-off adults.” His blue eyes wondered off to Albus’s ice cold expression. “Both of you have no chance…against us.” He twisted his face back at Scorpius, grinding his teeth together with fury. “You think…think you can challenge us?” He gobbed, penetrating his wand into the bone of Scorpius’s neck, who let out a whinge of terror, but managed to still look undoubtedly brave as he stared audaciously within the callous sapphire eyes of the former Death Eater. 

“You don’t scare me.” Scorpius choked out. 

Rodolphus sneered at him diabolically. He rammed his wand deeper into Scorpius’s collarbone. “Lucky she wants you alive or—”

“STOP IT!” Albus bellowed. “He’ll listen to you, alright?”

“Albus, please, it’s fine, I can take it—”

“Trust me.” Albus said softly. “Do what he says, Scorp.” 

Scorpius locked his horrified grey eyes onto Albus, who gradually nodded. Scorpius outstretched his arms in the air and slightly drifted backwards. He was only a few steps away from Albus, but even that was nearly excruciating. 

Scorpius twiddled his hands into the pocket of his dark pants, signalling to Albus that he was armed and ready to strike if needed. Albus shook his head at him. Scorpius nodded, comprehending what Albus had planned. All he had to do was wait for Albus’s cue. 

Delphi’s nostrils were dilating with boundless delight. “Atta boy, Albus…” She said in a drawling voice. “This is very important and must be done promptly.”

Albus remained seated in the lilac cushioned chair, his fingers trotting up and down the midnight Quill. The feel of it was horrifyingly familiar. Even though he would never admit it to anyone, the touch of the Quill strangely brought comfort to his soul. 

He pursed his lips together, peering down at the wrinkled piece of parchment in front of him. It was all too real. Sitting in a darkened area. Feeling his heart pulse out of his chest. Rimming his cool fingers onto the arched body of the Black Quill. Keeping his eyes onto the haunting Prophecy. Memorizing the scribbled words that sat upon the olden parchment. The only thing that seemed out of the ordinary was having an audience. 

No matter what, he wouldn’t bite the bait. He wouldn’t let himself be compelled to use the Quill. His Dad and Draco were on the way. Albus kept having to remind himself that this was all temporary. That everything would be okay once they arrived. He had to be patient. Give it another moment. Albus, of course, had no intention of using the Quill.

“Albus!” Delphi whirred. “I know what you’re doing.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” Albus responded innocuously, scrutinizing her most ferocious face. 

“Oh I think you do.” Delphi refuted. “I know quite well that you are stalling. Desperately trying to buy time.” She tracked over to Rodolphus, and murmured something imperceptibly into his ear. 

He propped close to hers, and drew out a reddish, white wand…a wand Scorpius had seen before. It was Delphi’s original wand. The one Albus and Scorpius remembered spotting Delphi carry around with her during their days together. There it was. Right in front of them. Just like they remembered. Her wand was unyielding, 12¾ inches, plucked from the finest Phoenix Hair. The handle of the wand was Walnut and the entire slim body was practically as red as her flaming eyes. She threw the Yew wand from her hand and leaned down and spat on it. Thrilled to be reunited with her original wand, she pressed her lips against it affectionately, her teeth glistening with happiness. “Now that I have my own wand back, I sincerely urge you, Albus Severus Potter, to not toy with me. I know very well what you are doing. Do not forget, boy. I have immediate entrance to your thoughts. If you continue to be stubborn, I assure you there will be serious consequences. I am giving you to the count of three. There will be no fourth. Failure to cooperate in the next seconds, will result in me taking that Quill out of your pathetic little hands and carving it straight into that worthless old elf’s face! Ask me if I’m bluffing!” 

“S-stop it!” Albus spluttered feebly. “I-I’ll do it. O-okay? I-I’ll do it.” 

Albus had no choice. He had to obey. He would grit his teeth and do it. Why was it so hard? He did this before, countless of times. He remembered each and every one of them. He would creep out of his dormitory, once Scorpius was fast asleep, and sneak out into one of the corridors, find an empty classroom and use the Quill. He would do it once a night every week. But as the bullying intensified, and the feelings of self-loathing became more present, he would use it far more frequently. Sometimes, there were weeks when Albus did not use the Quill at all. Likewise, there were times when Albus used the Quill every night. It didn’t make sense. Albus knew perfectly well how to use the Quill. He knew what had to be done. How come it was so difficult to use the Black Quill now, then? Of course. It was because Scorpius was watching. Rodolphus was watching. Delphi was watching— and she certainly didn’t deserve that satisfaction. 

Albus had a plan. He figured out the Prophecy. But he needed time to make his plan work. He flickered his eyes around the cold cellar. There was nothing to help him. No large object that would be useful to them whatsoever. Albus had to keep stalling. His mind was racing. He needed to devise a plan, already! He knew what had to be done. But how to do it was the question? They had to wait. For how long, he wasn’t sure. Perhaps just a little longer? That’s it. A little longer until he mustered up the strength to do what needed to be done.

Use the Quill. The mysterious voice hissed, sounding like a snake circling around the back of his neck. He could clearly hear the delicate, persuasive whisper in his ears. What’s a few lines? It’s nothing. Nothing! You’ve done it before, haven’t you? Don’t pretend this is new to you. You know how to do it. Take the Quill and draw a few more lines. It doesn’t even hurt that much. Come on, Albus Severus Potter. Are you weak? A coward? A spare? No. No you’re not. Take the Quill and do the lines, I say. Scorpius would get over it. You wouldn’t mortify him that much, I imagine. Only slightly. Just do the lines. A few more lines and you both will finally be free. You can leave this horrid room. Go back to Hogwarts. Be with your dear father while you can. Pretend this never happened…

He gaped down at his forearms. Earlier, Delphi had said the connection was getting stronger—right when Albus had heard the ominous, unrecognizable voice. That…that couldn’t be good news at all. Albus had a problem, didn’t he? There was no logical explanation to the murmurs he occasionally heard. Why could he hear voices? His Dad used to hear voices, but that’s only because he was connected to Voldemort. A part of Voldemort’s soul lived inside of him. Albus felt chills all over. A part of Delphi—lived…lived…inside of him? Him? No. Of course not. Most certainly not. A part of her couldn’t be linked to him. That wasn’t remotely possible. There was no plausible way that could have happened. Then again, why did he hear the voice…and why— why did it sound like her? 

Albus was exhausted is all. That was the reason he was jumping to all sorts of wild conclusions and assumptions. He barely slept. He’d been battered with spells of all sorts. Seen his boyfriend suffer by the hands of his Boggart. Realized Yann—his bully—was willingly working with Delphi. Albus had seen too much. He was paranoid. Traumatized. It was all in his head, yes? 

Do it. The voice rasped with a resurgence of exhilaration. Do it. 

Albus swallowed the lump in his throat. There really was no away around this, was there? Albus was not going to let Elfie—Scorpius’s beloved house elf—die at his expense. It wasn’t right. Scorpius had been through enough. Albus wouldn’t let that happen. He had to do it. He had to use the Quill. Delphi knew Albus had been stalling. There was no use pretending. It had to be done. He had to abide by her. It was only a few strokes, anyhow. He’d be fine. It would all be fine. She said they would uncharm the room—let them leave unharmed once the deed was done. It seemed there was no use trying to fool her. It was two against two. Delphi and Rodolphus against him and Scorpius. Delphi, as much as Albus hated admitting it, was a remarkably powerful witch. She could perform wandless magic, fly without a broom and was an excellent Legilimens. He didn’t know much about Rodolphus. All he knew about him was that he was Bellatrix’s husband, a Former Death Eater and was nearly as harmless as a Hungarian Horntail. The two practically knew dark and dangerous curses in their sleep. Albus knew they were trapped. He had to comply. He had no choice. He had to do it…

Albus took a deep breath and stared at the parchment in front of him. He could clearly see the red ink outlined over the fine handwritten words of the note Yann had given him. Albus now knew it wasn’t just any note. It was a Prophecy. His Prophecy. He could see his own markings upon the parchment. He had used the Black Quill and traced it all over each sentence of the Prophecy. All but last sentence: Death Shall Take the Second Dad. 

Albus locked his eyes back at his forearms. There were straight lines of faded red cuts on his wrists. Albus was always confused by this. He had thought when using the Quill, the words you write slash upon your skin. This Black Quill didn’t make much sense. This one merely drew branches of cuts on flesh. There were no words at all. Just jagged lines. There was no use analyzing it. He had one more line to write. One simple sentence. All he had to do was write it. Once he did that, he would be set free. After that, all of this would be over. 

Clenching the Black Quill in his right hand, Albus bit his lip to stop himself from letting out a gasp of pain because he knew how much this hurt—he was expecting it to, but even as he traced the first letter of the final prophecy into the parchment, the pain he was consumed with was most surprising and terrifying. He exhaled at once—a short and careful breath escaped his lips. He couldn’t help it. He was shaken by it. He glanced down at his forearms, watching his skin heat with fresh red cuts. It was as if a blade ripped a piece of Albus’s flesh as he swiftly wrote the first word: Death. Albus stuffed his fist into his mouth to keep himself from screaming out loud. 

“Albus?” Scorpius’s voice was abnormally ear-splitting and petrified. He appeared as though he had just witnessed the rebirth of Voldemort for he did not sound like himself at all. Albus felt his stomach tighten against his will at his boyfriend’s cries. Scorpius wheeled forward, quite positive Albus couldn’t be doing what he thought he was doing. Then he saw it. The red shining cut that was forming on Albus’s forearms. Albus now moved onto the next word: Shall. The lines scratched on his flesh healed momentarily, and then reappeared once more as he continued setting the Quill back onto the parchment. “ALBUS?” Scorpius bellowed, rushing over to his side, but Rodolphus caught him from the behind tangling Scorpius’s hands behind him. Scorpius squirmed frantically. “ALBUS NO! STOP! PLEASE STOP!” He was sobbing loudly now, still trying to fight his way out of the man’s constricting hold. “GET OFF ME!” He howled. He was glaring at Delphi now, his dreary grey eyes swimming in thick tears, hoping she would have the shred of decency to take pity on her own flesh and blood. “DELPHI…P-PLEASE DON’T DO THIS!”

A monstrous smile rushed onto her gaunt cheeks. She smirked at Scorpius, but kept a watchful eye on Albus. “You boyfriend—he’s getting quite restless, isn’t he?” 

“NO ALBUS DON’T!” Scorpius’s face was wet with tears. “DELPHI—YOU CAN HAVE ME! I’LL BE PART OF YOUR SACRED TWENTY EIGHT, JUST MAKE HIM STOP! TELL HIM HE DOESN’T NEED TO USE THAT!” 

Delphi’s eyes glistened at that statement. “Would you?” She asked dimly.

“SCORPIUS DON’T SAY ANYTHING!” Albus yelled.

Scorpius’s heart was racing. “I’LL DO IT!” He complied, still trying to shake Rodolphus off of him. 

“Make the Vow.” Delphi said primly. “Make the Vow and I just might spare your boyfriend…”

The knot in Albus’s stomach tightened at once. “Scorpius you break that and you die.” 

It was as if Albus had an Invisibility Cloak thrown over him for Scorpius was peering straight ahead, his eyes insouciant and frightened. “I don’t—don’t care…”

Now Albus was in tears. Watching Scorpius lose it. Unbalance. Watching him gutted in absolute pain was completely horrendous. He wanted to stop using the Quill for Scorpius’s sake. But he knew deep down, he had to continue. It was the only way…

“Don’t talk like that!” Albus cried, astonished. This was not Scorpius talking. Scorpius was light-hearted, easy-going, and full of life. He wasn’t this person. Broken. Empty and gray. Gambling his life away. “You can’t possibly believe her! S-she’s lying! She’s not even a Pureblood! Bellatrix was yes. But Voldemort wasn’t. He was Half-Blood.” Now his eyes were feasted on Delphi’s. “Voldemort was Half-Blood. Just like you are. I don’t know why you keep acting as though you aren’t. You’re Half-Blood, Delphi. Are you forgetting that? How can you put so much value on being Pureblood when you aren’t even one yourself—?”

“ENOUGH OF THIS!” Delphi shouted.

Albus was no longer interested in speaking to Delphi about this matter for he could still hear the shallow weeping of Scorpius. Albus let go of the Quill at once, and jumped to his feet, wanting to run to Scorpius, craving to hold him in his arms.

“STOP!” Delphi shrieked. “STAY WHERE YOU ARE!”

Albus remained standing. He continued to speak softly to Scorpius. “Think she’ll let me go after you make the Unbreakable Vow? She’ll allow us to run off back to Hogwarts, now will she? Like hell. She’ll keep us here until I do what she says. She wants me to continue with that bloody Quill!” He glared at Delphi. “In case you were wondering, the answer, of course is no. You can’t have him. If you think I am going to stand here and watch you take away the one person I love in this world, then you’re about as foolish as your parents.” 

Scorpius was trembling all over. “Please don’t—don’t continue…”

“Scorp, I’m okay. Doesn’t hurt.” Albus lied. “Let me finish.” 

“No.” He protested. 

“What about Elfie?” Albus said quietly.

Scorpius’s face crooked into inescapable irascibility, hopelessness and befuddlement all at once. “I…I don’t…d-d-d-don’t k-k-know…”

“Exactly.” Albus said gingerly. “I’m not going to make you choose between us. Let me finish this task and then we can go. All she wants is for me to finish the lines. That’s all she wants. Then we can leave.” Although Albus knew, even after he did what Delphi had asked of him, there was little to no chance of her letting them leave the premises unharmed. Especially since the Manor was crawling with former Death Eaters. He knew a couple were guarding Elfie upstairs. Who knew how many more of them were there? He didn’t want Scorpius to worry about that, though. He just needed Scorpius to calm down—to let Albus finish the deed. “I promise I won’t ever use the Quill after tonight.”

“There must be another way,” Scorpius said breathlessly. “Maybe if I make the Vow, she’ll reconsider—?”

“She won’t stop.” Albus said aloofly. “Don’t you get it?” He was growing frustrated—not at Scorpius but at Delphi. “She won’t ever stop until she gets what she wants.”

The voice was shrilling, louder and far more profound this time.

Excellent job, Albus. You are nearly there, boy. A few more words and you will be most honoured. Only a couple of more strokes of the Quill and all that pain—all that suffering and anguish will be burnt to dust. You both will be free. This, I promise you…

He took his fingers and scraped the tears off of his dark eyelashes, wishing no one would take this into account. Four more words. Four more words and he would stop. Three more words and they would be released from this cellar. Four more words and it was all going to be okay. 

Pushing his fist further into his mouth, Albus pressed the Quill onto the parchment: Take. He wrote. Once again, blood spilled onto the paper, the red ink looping over the chilling words. 

“DELPHI WHY ARE YOU DOING THIS TO US?” Scorpius shouted. “WHAT ARE YOU PLAYING AT?” 

But Albus disregarded him, finishing the word. His forearm was shining with heated red strokes. Albus closed his eyes shut, letting out an involuntary whimper in pain. Albus pitched the Quill aside, quickly pressing his hand against his inflamed forearms, doing his very best to soothe the stinging daggers he felt still being drawn over and over again on his flesh. 

You’re nearly done, Albus Severus Potter. Hurry up, now. We haven’t gotten much time. I assure you, you must continue. You will be honoured for what you did tonight. You won’t ever forget what you did tonight in the cellar…

The voice…

It was louder…

Louder the moment Albus had self-inflicted. Stronger the moment he used the Black Quill. The voice was clearly Delphi’s. He knew it was. Albus hovered his eyes to his Boggart, who was standing over him with a grin, waiting for him to finish off the remaining words. She wanted him to continue. So badly. Albus had wondered what significance the self-infliction was to her. Why did she want him to hurt himself? Why was she so obsessed with him using the Black Quill? 

It was becoming clearer now. The voice. It—it grew far more lasting—far more powerful—the second Albus used the Black Quill. Could it be—? 

Of course. It was all adding up now…

The Black Quill allowed the voice to grow louder, clearer. Delphi…Delphi had been communicating to Albus through…through his cuts. For some dark reason, it was the usage of the Quill that had acted as a gateway of communication between Delphi and Albus. Albus should have figured it out sooner. 

Albus was combing memories through the back of his mind, determined to solve this riddle once and for all. It was what he had feared. 

A year ago, when Albus was given the Quill and began using it, that was where it all began. That was when he started having those awful nightmares about the cellar and hearing those portentous voices. Only it wasn’t just any voice. It was Delphi’s voice. He thought of what Delphi had said earlier.

The connection…I see it’s getting stronger.

She was referring to the connection of communication between the pair. It was obvious, wasn’t it? The connection intensifies each time Albus used that bloody Quill! That’s why Delphi had been so obsessed with Albus’s cuts and repeatedly insisted him to continue finishing tracing out the lines of his Prophecy. 

Albus kept hoping Scorpius would nudge him awake and tell him this was all just another nightmare. But it wasn’t. Albus was in a nightmare. A nightmare he couldn’t wake up from. He didn’t want to believe this was all real. It was twisted. Sick. Immoral. Delphi somehow produced Dark Magic within the Quill so that every time Albus used it, the cuts would be an opening to Delphi’s wicked whispers and twisted thoughts. It was almost like what his Dad had endured. 

Harry had a scar of a lightning bolt on his forehead that throbbed whenever danger was nearby. Harry was miraculously able to pinpoint Voldemort’s seemingly unpredictable and disturbing moods. He had an inside glance and possession of Voldemort’s plans, thoughts and feelings. Albus was hit with a suffocating feeling of misery. He—he didn’t want to be marked with the same destiny. He didn’t want to be confined with Delphi’s haunting whispers. What did he do—? Why did he continue using the Quill? He made matters worse by obliging to her requests. Albus felt like a failure. He kept making mistake after mistake. He should have never listened to Delphi. But…he didn’t want Scorpius’s elf to die, either. Albus had to hold it together. If he started to fall apart, Delphi would know he had everything figured out; that he finally realized why the Quill was so important to her. He wondered if he should tell her about his findings. What would she say then?

Albus took the Quill and shoved it into his pocket, gaping blankly at the Prophecy in front of him, trying to sort through his fuming thoughts.

“What is it?” Delphi barked in a querulous voice. “Why’d you stop?”

“Because,” said Albus austerely, mounting up from the plum seat, “I know everything.” 

Delphi gave him a smug glance. “What, exactly, is everything?”

Albus was so overcome with emotion, he was practically rendered speechless. He decided—with great defeat—to not admit that he knew the true nature of the Quill. That would be a complete secret of his own. Albus nodded at Scorpius fiercely. “NOW!” He ordered. 

Scorpius lifted his wand out from his robes and pointed it at Rodolphus’s arm which was still twisted painfully with his. “Petrificus Totalus!” 

Rodolphus’s body went hard as stone, and he fell to the floor. Albus rushed to Scorpius’s side, hauling him close to his chest.

“It’s okay.” Albus whispered, pecking a kiss on his cheek. “I…I’m fine.”

“Does it hurt?” Scorpius sniffled, trying to touch Albus’s forearm, but Albus pulled away very quickly, not wanting Scorpius to see his fresh cuts. He rolled down his sleeves at once. “We need to find a way out.” 

Scorpius scanned the cellar quickly, wondering if there were any exits. Delphi barred her teeth together. She raised her wand and lightly moved her lips—the end of the wand pointed at Albus’s abdomen. Scorpius let a breath of panic escape his lips and shot his wand up in the air, blocking the curse nonverbally with a clean flick of his wand. 

Delphi glanced at Yann’s still body and muttered spells from the tip of her tongue. She was evidentially trying to wake him up. Help him. That meant they would again be outnumbered. 

Scorpius shot her a nasty scowl. 

“Expelliarmus!” He said loudly and Delphi’s wand was suspended from her hand.

“We’ve got to get a move on before it’s too late!” Albus panicked. He directed his wand at the black trunk. He needed to cause a diversion while he and Scorpius escaped. “Fiendfyre!” He bellowed. 

A jet of orange and red smoked out from the tip of Albus’s wand. It was not a normal fire-making spell. It was far more deadly and powerful that Albus could ever imagine. The flames that shot out of Albus’s wand quickly emerged together creating an enormous line of flaring animals. The flames linked together, revealing three large serpents, their tongues slithering out of their sneering mouths. The snakes let out an awful roaring sound, almost as in warning. Albus pulled Scorpius back at once, both heading to the staircase. The beasts soared towards the dark crate, looping their blazed bodies around the trunk, quickly melting its unknown contents to the ground. They heard a faint screech from the bolted box. Sparks of flame soon began filling the floor of the cellar. The large orange serpents with eyes as black as the devil, raced around the room, burning everything in sight. The fire was most atrocious and uncontrollable. Every article and crooked brick in the room was now dipped in fire. It wouldn’t take long before the Manor was burned to the ground. 

Delphi uncharmed the room with her small fists. She helped Yann to his feet. “Get up.” She hissed, and immediately Yann obeyed, taking her hand. 

“I can see again!” He exhaled in relief, gazing up at Delphi gratefully. His raven coloured eyes widened at the destruction that had unfolded before them. “Merlin’s Beard! What happened—?”

“Ignore them. Keep going.” Albus advised. The pair wrapped their arms around each other’s bodies, helping one another up the limestone staircase. 

The fire was getting worse by the second. One of the serpent let out another large cry of rage, sending a ball of fire as large as a bowling ball, down onto the floor, hitting the man who was paralyzed in the Full-Body Binding Curse. 

“Delphini, I reckon we ought to Disapparate now.” Yann grunted, squeezing his eyelids shut.

“WAIT!” Delphi ordered. “Has it hit him? That fire? I thought I saw—it’s hard to see. Has it hit Rodolphus? Oh where has he gone?” Albus had never seen Delphi like this. So hysterical. Vulnerable. Human. “WHERE ARE YOU?” She screamed, smoke clouding her vision. She rubbed her face frantically, stumbling blindly about the room, leaning on Yann’s slumped shoulder to help her walk. “WHERE ARE YOU?” She was coughing loudly. There was much terror infesting her voice. “I CAN’T…CAN’T LEAVE WITHOUT YOU! WHAT HAVE YOU DONE TO HIM, ALBUS?” Delphi shrieked, trying and failing to open her eyes. “Oh it’s too hot in here. We have to leave.” Delphi sighed incredulously. “B-but I cannot. Oh please answer me, Rodolphus W-where are you? SCORPIUS? ALBUS? I WILL KILL YOU BOTH ONCE I GET MY HANDS ON YOU. AUGUMENTI!” Water sprayed from her palms, but not even that would be enough. The fire was far more powerful. “AUGUMENTI! AUGUMENTI! AUGUMENTI!”

Albus and Scorpius trudged up the middle of the staircase, blackened and panting from the fiery of the flames, observing the chaos they had created. Their pale faces were dusted with black smoke powdering down their cheeks and their clothing was teared at the leg of their pants.

“We should go up to the Manor.” Scorpius suggested, ducking down in case Delphi was able to spot the two. He let out a huge cough. “It’s safer there, I reckon.”

“Wait.” Albus whispered, squeezing his hand. His eyes were wide with wonder. 

He could see Delphi’s disoriented figure, shrieking hopelessly for Bellatrix’s husband. “WHERE ARE YOU? She screamed, her fingers burning as she made contact with the flames.

“CAREFUL!” Yann screamed, clearly protective of her. 

“WHERE IS HE?” Delphi whined. “WHERE HAS HE GONE?” She turned her head about the room, like a curious bird, certain there was a darkened silhouette of him tossed neglectfully somewhere amongst the chaos. 

“DELPHINI! I SEE HIM!” Yann pointed at a burnt body face up on the floor. He snatched the wand out of Delphi’s hands. “AUGUMENTI! AUGUMENTI! AUGUMENTI!” Water poured from the wand, washing away the remaining flames. He then murmured a countercurse to break the Full Body Binding curse, expecting to hear a weak cough, a storm of indecipherable words, or fluttering of his eyes. However, the man was hauntingly silent and still as stone. 

“RODOLPHUS!” Delphi gasped, trying her very best to open her weakened eyes, pushing Yann away from her. She fell to the man’s side, ignoring the flames that kept dancing around the room, burning everything it kissed. 

Yann hovered in front of her to shield her from the fire. He continued using the Water-Making spell, praying that would be enough to save them from such a terrible death. “Aguamenti!” A jet of clear water shot from the end of the wand pathetically. It wasn’t enough to eliminate the blazes which soared in every direction of the cellar. “Aguamenti!” Yann yelled again. “Damn it! Delphi. Come on. We have less than a minute to Disapparate.” 

“WAKE UP, RODOLPHUS!” Delphi ordered, shaking his body. The man’s eyes were wide open and his mouth was vaguely opened in U shape as if he were permanently surprised or scared. She beat her fists into his still chest, waiting to hear a groan of pain—a soft murmur—a sarcastic laugh—anything that indicated he was well and alive. But nothing. No sound uttered from the man. All she could see was his burnt corpse and his blank eyes. He was no more. He, like everyone she ever loved, was gone forevermore. “NOOOO!” Delphi sobbed, punching him again—harder. She heard a rib crack. That wasn’t enough to awake him. Nothing would be enough. “PLEASE DON’T DO THIS TO ME! YOU CAN’T BE DEAD. OPEN YOUR EYES!”

“HE’S GONE, DELPHINI—” Yann tried telling her. 

“OPEN YOUR BLOODY EYES. SURELY YOU CAN HEAR ME.” She hurled his body up to her heaving chest. “PLEASE! PLEASE! OPEN YOUR EYES! DAMN IT! YOU WEREN’T SUPPOSED TO LEAVE ME!” Delphi wailed in a high pitched strained voice, shaking his blackened corpse, wishing he would reawaken already. His clothing was charcoal, tattered and crisped with fire. “YOU’RE THE ONLY FAMILY I HAD LEFT!”

“Delphini,” Yann said mildly, grasping onto her shoulders and shaking her gently. He stroked his meaty fingers into her lush hair. He turned her face so she would look at him. Tears splashed down her thinned cheeks. “He’s…”

“No.” She moaned, clutching the man closer. “No…” 

“I’m sorry, Delphini.” Yann whispered. “There’s no…no use…h-he’s gone…dead…he’s with the rest of them…watching over you from up there I am sure…”

“How could he leave me—?” She croaked.

“We’ve got to get going before we meet the same end!” Yann told her, pulling to her feet. “Avenge those who killed him.” Yann encouraged, his voice drained due to the intense heat of the fire. He stuck out his arm for her to take. Delphi released the man from her arms and nodded at Yann, closing her fingers with his.

CRACK. 

Beside Albus, he could feel Scorpius shake. He turned to look at him. “Are you alright?”

“What did we do?” Scorpius gasped, unsure who either of them were at the moment. 

Albus gave him a careful glance. “What needed to be done.” He said prudishly. “Death Shall Take the Second Dad.” 

Scorpius opened his mouth to respond but was stopped by the familiar voices coming from above.

“Expelliarmus!” Harry said. 

They heard the grunting of a man fall to the floor. 

“Everte Statum!” Draco muttered. 

Another was thrown high into the air and shot back down, slamming into the kitchen cupboards. 

Scorpius and Albus stared up at the ceiling. They faced each other again, breaking into relieved beams. “Dad!” They said at the same time. 

“BOYS!” Harry shouted. 

“DAD, WE’RE DOWN HERE!” Albus coughed. 

“I SMELL SMOKE!” Draco yelled. “WHERE ARE YOU?”

“IN THE CELLAR!” Scorpius called. “THE PLACE IS ON FIRE!”

“Draco, take the boys while I fend them off—”

“Stupefy!” They heard a man that wasn’t either of their fathers holler out. 

He and Draco were clearly still duelling the masked men upstairs for Scorpius and Albus could hear the spell-casting of their fathers and the mass destruction that followed afterwards.

“Let’s go upstairs. It’ll be safe now, with them here.” Scorpius suggested, helping Albus to his feet. 

“Wait.” Albus panted.

He took the Black Quill from the pocket of his robe and threw it deep within the pool of flames watching it shrink into nothingness, taken over by the heat of flames.

“AHHHHHHHH!” Albus suddenly screamed, touching his forearms. He dropped to his knees instantly. 

“What is it?” Scorpius cried, reaching out to him. “Has it hurt you?”

But Albus pushed him away. “DON’T!” Albus yelled, his divine green eyes filling with tears. He squeezed his eyelids shut. “JUST MAKE IT STOP! PLEASE MAKE IT STOP! MAKE IT STOP!”

Scorpius squatted down next to him, placing his hands gently onto Albus’s face. “I’m right here.” He promised him. He rolled Albus’s sleeves up, trying to checking his scars, but Albus kept squirming away. “Albus, show me what she did to you.” 

“I NEED IT TO STOP!” He groaned. 

“It’s going to be okay.” Scorpius whispered, unsure if he believed it himself. He was doing his absolute best to remain calm when all he wanted to do was to join in on the crying. He couldn’t stand seeing his boyfriend like this. He knew neither of them could stay down here a second longer. The fire was getting deadlier. They needed a safe space to go to in the meantime. 

“Come on. Let’s get you out of here.” He scooped Albus up by the waist, and hobbled up the staircase. 

“SOMETHING’S WRONG WITH ALBUS!” Scorpius screamed once he reached the top foyer.

“WHAT?” Harry shouted.

Scorpius could hear movement from the kitchen, but neither Dads made themselves seen. 

“TAKE HIM TO YOUR ROOM AND WAIT THERE.” Draco instructed. “I’ll look after the fire in the basement. Potter, grab some cool cloths for the boys. Hurry!”

“We need to take them to the hospital for burns. I reckon we should—”

“Potter—behind you!”

“Alarte Ascendare!”

Scorpius ducked down, covering Albus’s head so he wouldn’t be hit. He led Albus down the hallow hallway and headed straight into his bedroom, gently pushing Albus onto his bed.

“IT HURTS SO MUCH!” Albus wept, turning his head the other way, keeping his hands on top of his wrists. “IT BURNS!”

Scorpius climbed on top of the bed, moving Albus’s head so that it would rest upon his thighs. “Show me where it hurts.” He murmured, peering down at Albus’s sobbing face. “It’s okay. It’s going to be okay.” He soothed. 

“I can’t…c-can’t…” 

“Breathe.” Scorpius suddenly remembered, taking his finger and brushing away the tears streaming out of Albus’s thick eyelashes. “Hey. Albus. Look at me. Look at me and breathe. Just like you taught me. In and out. In and out. Remember?”

“In…and…out…” Albus murmured quietly, closing his eyes.

Scorpius watched the rise and fall of his chest.

“Tell me where it hurts.” He said quietly. “I can mend it the best I can. I have brews kept in the cupboards.”

Albus squinted up at him. “S-Scorpius…” He said feebly, reaching his arm up so he could caress Scorpius’s tender cheeks. “T-there’s…t-there’s n-no…no u-use…”

“There is!” Scorpius shouted. “You’re going to be fine, alright?”

“But—”

“I need you to know that I…” Albus’s rasp was husky and indistinct. “…I always—always…”

Scorpius’s striking face appeared blurry…pixelated…heavily unclear. Albus blinked several times, wanting to believe once he did, his fuzzy vision would be restored. He felt weak all over his chest. His head. His forearms. Every part of his body. It was difficult to breathe let alone speak. He was losing it. He was losing time. Every precious minute was sliding away, further out of his reach. Albus could feel his entire system slowly shutting down. 

He closed his eyes and everything went dark.


	17. Healing and Hurting

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> TRIGGER WARNING: MENTIONS OF CUTTING/SELF INFLICTION
> 
> I am SO sorry for the LONG wait, lovelies!! :o Silly muggle school and muggle work have been keeping me super busy! I hope you all enjoy the chapter! Thank you for being so patient! :)
> 
> SHOUT-OUT to Jeff for the "Forbidden Forest" reference! ;)

“He looks ill…” James announced. 

“Scorpius, too.” Rose detected with a touch of fear spiraled in her shaking voice.

“What happened to him?” Lily whispered to James, hoping he’d give her a decent answer. 

“Dunno.” He thrusted his shoulders up and down, towing his younger sister out of the way so he could peer closer at Albus’s stagnant face. There they were, back in the bloody Hospital Wing. Albus was starting to get a lot like Dad, wasn’t he? Dad had always spent his Hogwarts days at the Wing after coming close to death. James hooked his sharp eyes onto the two hospital beds where Scorpius and Albus were resting. Scorpius had his mouth half-open and was fiercely hugging the green pillow to his left while Albus was curled up in a ball, his arms slipped deep underneath the flocculent blanket. The bed beside Albus, which was once taken by Lily’s best friend, Zara, was now unoccupied. Clearly, she’s been dismissed from the Wing after proven to have recovered from the injury she had sustained. His little sister had asked James what happened. Truth be told, he did know. He knew exactly what happened. He had a fair clue, and that certainly counted for something, didn’t it? Whatever happened to his brother and Scorpius was obviously tied with the daughter of Bellatrix and Lord Voldemort. He knew that much. Of course, he’d never admit that to his sister. The last thing he wanted to do was scare her. James pursed his lips together. “Come on, Al. No time to rest now. Wake up, little brother.” He flapped his arms back and forth determinately. He couldn’t stand seeing his brother unconscious. More to that, he hated that Lily was right there, witnessing it all. Lily always looked like she just finished having a good laugh. It was odd seeing his sister carry a ghost pale expression on her face. It made his skin crawl. He didn’t like her like this. He missed her blissful demeanor. He yearned to see that perky smirk of hers. James nudged her elbow with a fetching smile, hoping that would be enough to crack a smile. “Rise and shine, Al!” But to his disappointment, she continued gaping about, empty-eyed and greatly downcast. 

“Mum won’t be too pleased that we snuck into the Hospital Wing…” Rose stated the obvious, turning about with paranoia. “Perhaps we should come back later—?”

James only rolled his eyes. “Oh give it a rest!” He snapped impatiently. “The last thing I care about is getting in trouble. Besides, Aunt Hermione is too busy rounding up the Ministry to find—”

“Delphi?” Lily answered, glowering at Rose from James, loathing how shocked they seemed. Everyone always appeared to second-guess her abilities. Albus, Rose and the lot of them often took one glance at her, and quickly disregarded her very existence. It made her furious and ever more determined to prove them wrong. Well, everyone beside James Sirius. He frequently took interest in her and in her untrodden abilities. She propped her chin up, looking very much like, to James’s aversion—their Mum. “You don’t have to try to talk in secret code or anything. No need to act like I am as about as stupid as they come.” Lily said assertively with a triumphant smirk growing on her tiny face. “I know what’s going on here. This is about Delphi. She’s escaped Azkaban and took Scorpius and Al. But then Dad and Mr. Malfoy found them and brought them here straightaway. And Al…well…erm…I overheard what happened.” She shot her eyebrows up at James. "You know I know.” She didn’t want to say it aloud, but knew she had no choice. She needed her brother and cousin to take her seriously. She needed them to know this was something they could discuss as a family. Lily was fully aware that the air in the Hospital Wing would be sucked out almost immediately after she said this. It was a difficult thing for Lily herself to comprehend and it was even harder to let such an awful secret slip between her lips. “Al…h-h-he…he’s…” Her confidence disappeared in an instant. “He’s been...using the Black Quill to…to hurt himself…”

Rose’s face turned paler in that instant. James suddenly stopped smiling. 

Lily tucked her hands inside her Gryffindor robes with a teeny beam. “I…it’s okay…” Lily stopped what she was saying and shook her head. “I mean, it’s not okay of course! What I erm, meant, was it’s okay that I know. I…erm…I think I have just the thing that might cheer him up…I made him a…a… card?” She said, although it came out as a nervous question. 

She zipped up her Gryffindor robes to hide her nightclothes that she was wearing. She didn’t want them to think she was a baby. That she wasn’t old enough to understand what was going on. The nightgown certainly wouldn’t help her case. It was embarrassing to a set of onlookers, but secretly, these were Lily’s favourite nightclothes! It was the ones she bought with Zara last summer. Lily was cloaked in her bright pink nightdress which were printed with large, beaming Demiguises at every inch of the silk fabric. 

Lily tip-toed to the brown dresser where Albus’s wand was placed along with an empty golden goblet, a basin of Sleeping Draught, a pitcher of Gillywater, and a tottering pile of books. Lily was pleasantly surprised when she came across a few titles she remembered reading in class such as "One Thousand Magical Herbs and Fungi" by Phyllida Spore and of course the riveting "Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them" by Newt Scamander. She couldn’t help but notice the lime green cloth soaked into the large cauldron of a bubbling yellowish serum of some sort which was nested right on top of the zoologist’s famous paperback. Now what kind of brew was that, she wondered? 

She pushed the parchment onto the dresser with a satisfied smile. The front part of the card was a brilliantly detailed drawing of Lily and Albus laughing and holding hands. It wasn’t just any drawing either. Not a rushed, imperfect picture. This picture seemed like it was created by someone in their seventh year. Someone who had loads of experience drawing. Or, someone, who, like Lily, was rather young yet incredibly talented. It was a drawing like no other. The detail in this sketch was extraordinary. There were four massive tables laid with scintillating cutleries, goblets and oval shaped plates. Thousands of floating candles hung high above the midnight ceiling which sparkled with silver stars of heaven. Right in the very middle of the Slytherin table, sat Lily and Albus, dressed in their finest school robes, grinning while interlocking their fingers together. Lily certainly got the black bushy hair of her brother just right. 

Rose and James could have sworn they saw the picture move!

Rose squinted. “Is that—?”

James leaned in, certain he saw wrong. “No!” He gasped with a massive grin. “Oi, sis! That couldn’t possibly be…”

“I’ve charmed it so the picture could move!” Lily flashed them a smile. She clasped the card in her hand, showing it to the pair of them. “See?” Once Lily would lock her hands with Albus in the card, the drawing of Lily would spring out from the brown bench with her wand hoisted in her hand and then the words "Get Well Soon, Albus", would smoke into the air written in dark green handwriting. This scene would unfold and repeat every 10 seconds or so.

James roared with laughter and pulled Lily into his arms. “You’re the most magnificent witch of your age! You know that, right?”

“Took you long enough to admit.” Lily gave him a dirty look, but smirked nonetheless. 

Rose cupped her hands over her mouth in surprise. “I must say, it is rather extraordinary.”

Lily twisted her thick red braids in her fingers. “Figure that would cheer Al right up.” 

“It will.” James said brightly. “Trust me.” He plucked the card out of Lily’s hand and stared at it admirably. James knew better than to crank open the card. He figured that was personal and did not want to invade his sister’s space. He gave her a proud smile and placed the card back on the drawer, exchanging smiles with her. “I’ve got to see Al’s face when he sees this.”

“Speaking of which, when do you think they’ll wake up?” Rose asked quietly, checking the time. She sat on Scorpius’s bed anxiously, her eyes shifting from Scorpius to Albus, determined that one of them would open their eyes already. “It’s been an hour, hasn’t it?”

“If they’ve been under the Sleeping Draught, my guess is, they’ll be out for a couple more hours.” Lily explained.

Rose’s jaw nearly dropped. “How’d you—?”

“Second year Potions Class.” Lily said primly, shooting James a satisfied smile. “Easy stuff.” 

“That’s my sis!” James encouraged with a thumbs up. His face darkened in thought. “Hang on. What if they weren’t given the Sleeping Draught but the Calming Draught instead?” He suggested, looking crestfallen. 

“Of course,” Rose agreed, talking quickly, “that allows the drinker to calm down after facing any shock or trauma.” She lowered her voice which beckoned Lily and James to draw nearer. Lily stalked over and sat right beside Rose while James stayed put, keeping an arm by Albus’s shoulder. “Mum said that Albus came in here practically bawling. Scorpius, too. Although I think Scorpius was hysterical over Albus’s state of mind.” 

“State of mind?” James repeated grimly.

“The cuts…” Rose whispered. “They’re back.”

“WHAT?” James exploded. “HOW—? HOW’D THAT MANAGE TO HAPPEN?”

“James, calm down!” Rose beseeched, nearly in tears. “I…I dunno!” 

But James wasn’t listening to her at all. He turned to Albus desperately. “Please tell us what happened, mate! Tell me you didn’t…didn’t…” 

“He can’t hear you.” Rose reminded him.

He shot her a nasty scowl. “I know that!”

“Maybe Delphi used the Imperius Curse on him?” Lily said quietly.

Rose and James stopped bickering at each other at once and goggled at her, utterly dumbfounded. 

Lily felt her face turn as red at her hair. “What?” 

“T…that could be true.” Rose agreed weakly.

“Why would she want him to—? Why would he listen—?” James pressed his hands over his face, quickly wiping the tears on his eyelashes. Rose looked away, pretending she didn’t see. 

“We mustn’t assume anything,” she said in a hushed voice, “let’s…let’s just wait.”

James let out a sigh and stared forlornly at his brother. “Their clothes are burnt, too. Dad and Draco said the Manor was set on fire.” James offered more information to the pair as he patted the blackened shirt worn by Albus. Rose turned to Scorpius and saw holes and rips all over his pants and shirt. She put her hand over her mouth, it seemed, doing her best trying not to weep. James watched her carefully and summoned his two senses. “My guess is Delphi lured them into the Manor somehow.” 

“But why?” Rose questioned. 

“Let’s think,” James said, quizzing them, “what would Delphi want with Scorpius and Albus?”

“Answers?” Lily suggested.

James shook his head at her.

“I’ve got it,” Rose said tentatively, “Of course it is pretty dark…perhaps a stretch even…mad to even consider…”

“Oi carry on, will you?” James grumbled irately. 

“R…r…revenge…” Rose spat out. “She took them for revenge!”

James snapped his fingers at her. “Exactly!”

“I hate to break it to you,” said Lily cautiously, frowning at them, “But I think you’re wrong.”

“I’m…erm…wrong?” Rose was clearly offended, but still gave her a reassuring nod to carry on. 

“My theory,” said Lily forebodingly, “is Delphi took them in a way of getting Dad’s attention. She only hurt Scorpius and Albus as a threat. As a way for Dad to come find them. She wanted a showdown between Dad and herself.”

“I second your theory, Lil.” James said, clearly impressed. He scratched his chin, staring at his cousin. “But I also think Rose is right, too. Revenge is a plausible explanation to all of this.”

“But…but why Scorpius?” Rose asked, the colour in her cheeks rising. “What’s he got to do with any of this?”

“Scorp and Al are inseparable.” James stated, warning her with his eyes to not carry about this particular conversation. “Whatever trouble Al gets plunged in…Scorpius gets into as well. They don’t leave each other’s side. You know that…” 

“Of course I know that!” Rose snapped. “I know that more than anyone!”

“You do?” James laughed coldly. They were no longer talking about Scorpius Malfoy. “You know about…about…this more than anything? More than anyone? That’s a laugh! Really a laugh. I knew about this…since…since…blimey since first year! But I let Al figure it out for himself. If you knew…if you claimed you knew…why’d you date Scorp anyway? Just to get under Al’s skin?”

“Shove off, James!” Rose snarled. 

“What are you two going on about?” Lily sighed, throwing her arms in the air, feeling quite annoyed of being left in the dark. 

Rose ignored her, jumping to her feet the same time James did. “I KNEW!” She yelled, stomping her foot. “Knew by the time we first kissed. I knew Scorpius didn’t…didn’t particularly like it. That he wanted to taste someone else’s lips instead. I only discovered it recently, alright? I mean, I always had a feeling about it…but I thought no, it’s rubbish…”

“Rubbish?” James repeated, his eyes flashing dangerously. 

“Not like that, of course!” Rose rushed out an apology. “I didn’t want to believe it because I had cared for him is all. I should have…should have ended it with him sooner but I couldn’t…couldn’t until Albus made it crystal clear that he liked—”

“Stop talking!” James interrupted, not wanting his brother to be outed.

“Oh!” Lily said knowingly, breaking into a beautiful beam. “Ohhh! I see! We’re talking about Albus and Scorpius, aren’t we? No need to try to hide it from me. I know. They fancy each other. I know.” 

“Blimey, is there anything you don’t know?” James grinned.

“Doubt it.” Lily bragged. “Have they finally gotten together?” She asked excitedly. 

“Erm…I think you ought to ask Albus about all of this.” Rose said sensibly. “Or wait until he says anything. Don’t just…you know…tell him you know about him and Scorpius.”

“Of course I won’t.” The delightful smile on Lily’s face was back. “I can’t wait to hear him finally admit that he fancies—”

“Scorp…?” Albus murmured, his voice thick with slumber. He slowly opened his eyes, expecting to see his parents, but was rather confused, yet pleasantly surprised to see the smiling faces of his siblings and cousin. “W…what are you all doing here…?”

James and Lily quickly rushed over to Albus’s side who tried to sit up, but fell back down upon the bed. 

“SCORPIUS!” Albus yelled, swatting his James’s arms away. “Where…where is Scorpius?” He was nearly in tears.

“Al, mate,” James said evenly, looping an arm around him. He exchanged knowing looks with Lily and Rose and finally turned about to his little brother, “look beside you. Scorpius is right there. See? Right there. Right there. No need to worry...”

Albus managed to peer over to the next bed at the beautiful sleeping boy to his right. The anxiety that was washed over him like a tidal of waves were disappearing into thin air. His heart was able to beat regularly. He no longer felt like his lungs were crashing into the depths of dangerous water. He wasn’t so worked up anymore. Scorpius was right beside him and he was safe. That was the only thing that mattered. 

“Where am I?” He asked sleepily, rubbing his eyes. 

“Hospital Wing of course.” Rose answered. She walked over to the dresser and poured him some Gillywater, offering him the goblet. Albus cupped it into his hands appreciatively, finishing the liquid. “Some more?” She asked, but Albus shook his head. 

“Are you in pain, mate?” James asked. 

“No,” Albus said lightly, “I feel…groggy.” He turned his face at Scorpius. “Is he—?”

“Just fine.” James winked. “Sleeping is all.” He pulled Albus to his chest with one hand and pecked a kiss on the top of Albus’s shaggy hair. “You gave us quite a scare, mate.” 

“What happened?” Rose asked shakenly. 

James swore loudly. “Rose!” 

She rounded on him. “Don’t pretend you’re not curious!”

“Of course I am!” James admitted, lowering his head down embarrassingly. “But he just awoke. Reckon he needs his space…”

Lily disregarded them and crawled over to the left side of Albus’s bed, resting her chin with her balled fist. She stared up at Albus, noticing all of the open gashes and cuts on his face. His looked as though he’d been beat up terribly with hexes and curses of all sorts. Did she want to know what happened? Definitely. But she knew it wouldn’t be right to ask about any of it. Comfort was what he needed, she suspected. “Dad’s at the Ministry,” she spoke softly, picking her pink painted nails as she spoke. “Mum went with him. Mr. Malfoy too.” James plucked the goblet of out Albus’s hands and slowly rose from the bed, taking the pitcher of water and poured some more into the cup, setting it aside. Lily took this opportunity to hug Albus. She hugged him quite tightly until Albus could no longer feel his body. She was relieved to see him awake. To see him alert. She knew their parents would be nearly as thankful. She suspected it was time Harry and Ginny stepped into the picture. Lily’s voice came out like a whisper. “Mum and Dad…they want to come see you. Only if you would like to see them. You know…when…when you’re ready.”

Albus was unsure how to handle this certain situation. There Lily was. Right beside him, cuddling him as if all were right in the world. It was quite strange seeing his little sister here. It was even more humiliating that she knew of his cutting. Has she thought ill of him? Did she think he was the worst brother in the world? That he was twisted and sick? Did she no longer see him as an older brother, but a younger brother? Someone she had to look after? The way she was speaking to him proved otherwise. She seemed…seemed to be handling this situation far better than James and Rose who were barking at each other like Uncle Ron and Aunt Hermione. 

“Do you, Albus?”

Albus looked up, alarmed. “Sorry?”

Lily hugged him tighter around the stomach. “Do you want Mum and Dad to come?”

Albus thought of his Ill-Fated Prophecy…of his cuts, of the desire and horror of coming out to his parents and his face darkened with animosity. “Don’t bring them here.” He said, straightening his body so he could sit up. “Not now, at least…”

Lily too, adjusted her position and leaned her head against his shoulder. “We won’t.” She said. 

James walked back beside his brother, plopping himself right next to him. “You just worry about getting better.” 

“I’m glad you’re alright, Albus.” Rose spoke up, reaching out and taking his hand, pretending she didn’t see the fresh cuts on his wrists. She couldn’t help but notice there were words written on his flesh. What did the words say, she wondered? She wanted to ask, but knew discussing it would be disastrous. 

“Thanks, Rose.” Albus mustered out a yawn. 

“Albus?” Scorpius said sleepily, making a cat like sound as he stretched his arms into the air. 

Albus broke into a grin the same time James did—and sprinted off of the hospital bed, stumbling drunkenly as he walked. It was odd. One minute, he was lethargic and despondent and the next, he was suddenly hit with a surge of strength. 

Albus gazed down at Scorpius, who blushed deeply at the intensity of his stare. They were locking eyes onto one another hungrily. It was obvious. They wanted to kiss, but, chose not to, because of the audience that stood before them. Instead, Albus settled himself onto the bed right beside Scorpius, their legs touching beneath the blanket.

“You’re alive!” Albus said merrily, squishing him into his arms, his husky voice breathing hot air into Scorpius’s neck. 

“Of course I am.” Scorpius said with an attractive smile, still clinging onto him “I would never leave you, Albus Severus.” He was now whispering in his ear. “You know that.”

Albus turned scarlet. “I do.” 

James stared at the pair with wonderment. Had something gone on in the Manor that he was unaware about? Something romantic, for instance? Did they run off to the Forbidden Forest together and do, rather, forbidden things with one another? Things that should not be mentioned? Romantic acts with one another? What, for the love of Dumbledore was going on? 

James was hiding a smile as he glanced from Albus to Scorpius. “Well would you look at the time?” He pretended to check his watch. “Much too late for us to be up. Suppose it’s time we all head to bed now—?”

“What about—?” Rose started.

“I thought we were going to—?” Lily protested.

“Another day!” James said loudly. He stared at Scorpius. “Can I? Erm…do you…do you want me to get your Dad—?”

“No,” Scorpius said quietly, “I just need a few minutes alone…with Albus…”

James looked like he was doing his very best not to laugh at Albus. “R-right…Forbidden Forest things…right…”

“What?” Albus asked, quite baffled, but James disregarded him. 

“We need to go over what happened,” Scorpius explained, although he looked exceptionally guilty. 

“We’ll wait outside the Hospital Wing.” Rose said, leaping to her feet and taking Lily’s hand. “Come on, you.” 

The two witches exited the Wing. James didn’t. He stayed put with a huge beam drawn on his face.

“James,” Albus sighed. “I’ll be fine. We just need—”

“Oh I know what you two need…” James’s cut in, doing his very best to fight the smile which kept twitching onto his face. 

Scorpius turned pink and said nothing. Albus only grinned.

“Five minutes.” He instructed and left the room.

Albus faced Scorpius, appearing quite serious. “Listen, Scorp, I—”

“Can I kiss you?” Scorpius interrupted, locking their fingers together. 

Albus’s serious, stern face melted into a grin. He certainly was not expecting this. Albus smirked at him adoringly. “Always.” 

Scorpius tipped his face so close to Albus, he could feel the intense heat of his eager and rather heavy breathing. Their foreheads nuzzled with one another tenderly for several seconds, both closing their eyes, waiting for the magical moment to begin once again. Without waiting a second longer, Scorpius kissed Albus full on the mouth. In that instant, all the doubts and worries Albus was flooded with were non-existent. Scorpius outlined his warm fingers by Albus’s crimson cheeks and pinned him down onto the bed. Albus giggled, shocked by Scorpius’s excitement, but savoured it like a meal. Scorpius climbed on top of him while unbuttoning Albus’s shirt just by the collar. 

“Is this okay?” Scorpius whispered, stopping his hands, realizing they have never gotten that far before. 

“Yeah.” Albus panted. 

Scorpius smiled at his boyfriend, pushing his hand inside Albus’s shirt, sweeping his delicate fingers on Albus’s bare chest who let out a small noise of approval, immersing his body with Scorpius. Albus brought Scorpius’s burning face close to his and pressed his wet lips onto the bone of Scorpius’s neck, who exhaled deeply, gathering the black strings of Albus’s hair in his fingers. Scorpius slowly opened his eyes, the same time Albus did and both stared longingly at each other, beaming. 

“I reckon we should stop now.” Scorpius breathed out. 

“Why?” Albus pouted. He didn’t want to stop. He wanted to keep going. He was enjoying what was happening very much. 

“I don’t want to…rush this…rush what we’ve got going here.” Scorpius blushing face was puffing hues of pink and red on his slim cheeks. “You heard James. They’ll be back soon.”

“Okay.” Albus agreed. He understood what Scorpius was saying. Romantic and intimate moments should not be rushed. They ought to be slow, beautiful, and just right. Scorpius was very careful and responsible. Scorpius Malfoy was such a dork, it made Albus love him even more. Albus bit his lip, glancing up at his boyfriend, tracing his fingers by Scorpius’s legs. “We can continue later, if you like?”

“I would adore that, yes.” Scorpius consented, squirming himself off of Albus, and pressing his face onto Albus’s chest instead, who placed an arm around his body, squeezing his waist. 

“I love you.” Albus said softly. 

“Not as much as I love you.” Scorpius smiled. He thought of what happened down at the Manor, and his grip on Albus grew snugger, quite defensive, as if he were afraid someone or something would try to steal Albus out of Scorpius’s hands. “Do you remember,” Scorpius murmured sheepishly, “what happened? After the fire?”

“My cuts,” said Albus gloomily, “were burning. You tried to calm me down but nothing worked. Then I blacked out.”

“Yes. Erm. Your cuts were burning. But before I could do anything, you fainted. I went into my closet and pulled out all of my potions. The Murtlap Essence seemed to help. I placed the solution all over your cuts. Then I got your Dad involved. But as we got you into the Wing, you awoke again and were screaming. I kept soaking your arm with the Essence and then you fainted again. I reckon that must have scared me. I thought the Essence was helping, but it made you scream more, so before you know it, I lost consciousness as well.” 

“Sounds like a mess, what happened.” Albus said sourly.

“It was.” Scorpius said in horror, remembering it all. “I don’t know if the Essence helped or not, though.” He chewed on his nails. 

“Why don’t we see?” Albus murmured, peering down at his boyfriend’s distressed face. 

Scorpius was taken aback. “What if you faint again?” He panicked, looking up at him. 

“Doubt it.” Albus yawned. “Besides, the cuts don’t hurt too much now. Could use some relief.”

“Fine,” Scorpius mumbled sitting up and taking his wand out from underneath his bedsheets. “Accio Murtlap Essence!”

The basin of Murtlap floated towards them along with the green towel which was bathed in the yellow liquid. Both boys were now sitting cross-legged, facing each other expectantly. Scorpius doused the green towel fully into the fresh serum and squeezed the buttery droplets off from the cloth. Then, with most love and a wee bit of nervousness, he wrapped the towel right on top of the red handwriting that was etched upon Albus’s skin.

He closed his eyes, sighing deeply. “Mmm. Feels good.”

“It…it does?” Now it was Scorpius’s turn to heave a deep sigh. “Thank Dumbledore.”

Albus reopened his eyes and watched Scorpius’s cream soft hand hold the towel for him. He smiled at Scorpius and placed his hand on top of his.

“Scorp?”

“Yes, Albus?” Scorpius said, appearing quite distracted and concentrated as he continued running the cloth up and down Albus’s arms. “Listen, I love you and all, but it is quite difficult to do this while you’re holding my hand. If you must, take the other hand—”

“You’re such a dork.” Albus smirked.

“But where would you be without my dorkiness?” Scorpius gave him a frisky smile, raising an eyebrow.

“You’re right.” Albus played along. He grinned at him as he inched closer. He needed one more kiss. One more kiss from his boyfriend. He couldn’t stop staring at Scorpius’s wet lips which promised him security and love. “I’d be lost without my knight and shining armour…” He tilted his heard forward, ready to steal another taste…

“OH HI DAD!” James bellowed from outside the corridor—and Scorpius and Albus jerked apart. “OH MR. MALFOY!” James was yelling so loudly, Albus was sure he was practically spitting all over their faces. “GOOD TO SEE YOU HERE! GOOD DAY. GOOD DAY. RIGHT. IT’S NIGHTTIME, RIGHT…”

“What do we do?” Albus panicked, turning to look at the door. 

“Nothing, I don’t think.” Scorpius said, he too, staring at the entry, still holding onto the lime towel on Albus’s arms. “We aren’t doing anything wrong. We aren’t wrong, Albus.” 

“Yes of course but—” Albus froze at the sight of his Dad who crashed through the room with Draco right at his heels.

They looked as though they’ve walked through a set of curses and jinxes blindfolded. 

Harry had a rather large opened incision sculpted onto his right cheek and his greying, black hair was even messier than Albus had ever seen. His great bright blue robes were burnt right at the very edges. There were large bags etched below Harry’s emerald green eyes that wore his handsome face down. Draco Malfoy’s fastened black robe was smeared with stains of blood and had violent tears at each corner. His white blonde hair which was once nicely fixed in a stunning, single braid was now scrappily splattered on his face, the grey and white blonde threads of hair flying all over his drained, lacklustre face. 

“The boys should be up any minute now…” said Harry feverishly without bothering to look up. He strummed the brown core of his Phoenix feather into his upper thigh. 

“I reckon you’re right.” Draco responded, sounding nearly as tired as he was determined. Both Draco and Harry were lost in conversation, too engrossed in their thoughts to notice that their sons were wide awake. 

Harry was absolutely positive that a Death Eater would appear into the Hospital Wing and try to attack Scorpius and Albus. He and Draco had just duelled about nine Death Eaters back at the Manor. Surely one of them would be bound to turn up without warning to finish the fight? They couldn’t enter the school without using magic, now could they? There was no logical way the Death Eaters could slip into these walls? No one could Apparate in and out of Hogwarts unless of course, they had help from the inside. Perhaps another Vanishing Cabinet? Anyone could turn up at any minute. He had to be alert! There were dangerous wizards and witches at large. Especially the one witch Harry had most feared—Delphi—the daughter of Voldemort herself! The anxiety of it all was practically killing Harry. There were too many questions and not enough answers. He finally lifted his gaze and saw his son—his beautiful, incredible son—perfectly safe, sitting on the same bed as Scorpius—who was also awake. “ALBUS! ALBUS! OH MERLIN’S BEARD!” Harry grinned and ran up to his boy, hugging him as strongly as he pleased.

Albus couldn’t pretend he wasn’t thrilled to see the sight of his Dad. He smiled back at Harry and embraced him with his free hand. 

Draco twisted his fingers close together by his heart, so sure this was a hallucination of some sort. Was his son—? Was he really alive? “SCORPIUS!” He choked out, jogging towards his son and kissing him on the cheek. “You’re…you’re alive! You’re alive! I was so worried you were…”

“I’m okay, Dad.” Scorpius managed to say, letting go of Albus’s hand as he embraced his father snugly. “Don’t…don’t worry. I’m okay. I love you.”

“I love you, too.” 

“You found us,” Albus murmured to Harry, offering him a smile that was grateful, weary and affectionate all at once. He held onto his Dad’s arms, feeling awfully comforted in their long embrace. “Found us just in time.”

“I’ll always come find you, Al.” Harry said. 

There was a moment’s silence as fathers and sons hugged one another, all devouring this occasion as long as they were able to, because in the end, everyone knew what had to be said. What needed to be discussed. The problem of course, was initiating such a dangerous conversation. 

Draco decided to make small talk. “Are—? Are you…” He wasn’t sure what exactly he was supposed to ask his dear boy. Was he supposed to change the subject? Was he supposed to talk about Delphi? “…erm…hungry?” He asked his son. Draco wanted to hex himself for asking such a foolish thing. What kind of question was that? It hardly made any sense. This wasn’t the time to eat! 

“No, Dad.” Scorpius answered. He met eye contact with Albus. “Are…are you?”

Albus smiled at Scorpius. He was so adorable, it made Albus feel warm inside. “No…but perhaps we could sneak into the Great Hall and—”

“I…I can’t take it.” Harry blurted out, “I need to know everything that went on down in that Cellar…”

“We can figure out what happened in the Cellar later.” Draco responded dimly as he continued staring—pale faced—at his dear son. “But now—? Right now—the only thing that matters is that the boys are okay. Poor boys been through quite enough for a lifetime.” 

Harry watched Draco carefully and gave him an uncommonly kind nod. “You…you’re right.” Harry agreed. “He’s a hero, your boy is.” He raised his stare towards Scorpius Malfoy who went still as stone as he met the compassionate eyes of Harry Potter. “You saved my boy’s life, Scorpius.” Harry said slowly, leaning down and placing a hand on his shoulder. “If…if you hadn’t been watching him…hadn’t been with him while we were duelling…hadn’t gotten us so we could take him to the hospital…I can’t—can’t even begin to imagine—” Harry shook that thought away. “Thank Dumbledore we got him here on time…thank…t-thank you. Thank you Scorpius.”

“Oh.” Scorpius was at a loss of words. “Erm. You’re…you’re most welcome…” He said awkwardly, refusing to look at Albus, for he knew if he did, he would turn about as red as the copper scales of a Peruvian Vipertooth.

“I was wrong…” Harry whispered to the floor. “…what I said about him…about you…” He goggled his glance at Draco, letting out a loud sigh, ashamed of how vile he was behaving only hours ago. “I know neither of you are…are…”

“I know.” Draco cut him off quickly. He didn’t want his son to hear what Harry had once thought of the pair. It was best if all was forgiven and forgotten about.

Harry carried on with a dawning look of comprehension. “I know you aren’t a bad person. I don’t see you only one way, Draco. I won’t—won’t ever make such accusations again. Not to you. Not to…to anyone.”

Draco appeared quite surprised, obviously taken back by such an apology. He studied Harry’s green eyes carefully, wondering if this was a lie or not. Perhaps it was utter desperation? He was sorry now, but once something bad happened, Harry would be the first person to point fingers at the Malfoys again. Or has—? Has things changed now? He watched Scorpius bite his lip as he and Albus made eye contact. They fancied each other. He knew that. He wouldn’t want to do anything to jeopardize that. He realized now that he wasn’t going to be that person to stand in their way. Albus made Scorpius happy. Scorpius made Albus happy. There was nothing else that needed to be done. Needed to be said. Harry and Draco would learn to work through their childhood grudges. They would get over it. They would have to spend the rest of their years looking at each other like friends—especially for the sake of their sons. 

“Thank…you…” Draco accepted his apology with great difficultly, knowing this was probably the only time both men acted remotely and perhaps even genuinely kind towards one another. 

Harry inspected Albus and Scorpius both of who were now locking eyes with each other, taking turns smiling at each other back and forth. It was a rather strange sight to see. They were friends weren’t they? Best friends? Was…was that how best friends looked at each other? Ron and Harry certainly didn’t look at each other like that. Then again…Ron and Hermione did. But…but they fancied each other, that’s why. It didn’t make much sense. What was going on between Albus and Scorpius? Perhaps they were just thankful to be alive?

Albus was a leader. Someone with a short temper. Scorpius was a follower. Kept his nose in the books. Both were undoubtedly brave. Both were heroes. Both dodged the angel of death countless of times. They were quite opposite, but in some rare ways, they were similar. They definitely fit nicely together. 

Harry nearly smiled.

“What?” Draco asked, feeling his own lips twitching into a teeny beam as he watched Harry’s facial expression soften. 

Harry ran his free hand through his untidy, graying hair. “I was just thinking…” He held back a laugh. “Funny isn’t it? How close they’ve become? If you would have told me when I was fifteen that your boy and mine would become best friends, I would have insisted you were barking.”

Draco smirked at him. Oh Potter, if only you knew the truth. “They are close indeed…” 

Albus snorted in response while Scorpius hid his face with his hands. 

“WHAT ARE YOU KIDS DOING UP?” Albus heard his Mum yell from outside of the Wing.

“Mum!” Lily sighed. “We were just…”

“OFF TO BED!”

“Blimey, Al is our brother!” James argued. “Think we deserve to eavesdrop!”

“Give me that Extendable Ear right now!” 

“Oh Aunt Ginny!” Rose sulked. “Please!” 

“I’m sorry but Harry and I need to talk to Albus privately.”

“But—”

“You can see him tomorrow. I promise!”

“Fine!”

They heard the stomping and bickering of the Lily, James and Rose as they marched away from Ginny, muttering a stream of swear words as they departed.  
Ginny jogged apprehensively into the Wing, her thick red hair falling wildly like a trail of Knotgrass into her frazzled face. “Can you believe they were eavesdropping?” She shook her head. “James and Lily get that from you.” She tossed her husband a lively smile but frowned again when she checked her pocket watch. “Oh it’s been an hour already, is he—? 

“Mum!” Albus called.

“ALBUS!” Ginny’s face broke into a beam as she stopped where she was, clutching her chest. “OH ALBUS!”

Harry moved away so Ginny could settle herself right beside her son. 

“You scared us all!” She lectured hotly, but leaned down and kissed his cheek.

Harry watched his wife and son embrace and smiled at the pair of them. “And mind you,” Harry said with a loving leer, “you were right beside me, Ginny, at Grimmauld Place, using Extendable Ears to listen in on the Order. They get it from both of us.” 

“Oh shut it!” Ginny stuck her tongue playfully at Harry, and turned back to Albus, folding their hands together. “I am so happy you’re alright, Al. Oh how we thought the worst!” Ginny smiled at Scorpius, touching his face affectionately. “Thank Dumbledore you’re alright, too…” She looked up, beaming back at Draco.

“Mum?” Albus said quietly, “has Aunt Hermione managed to find her? Delphi?”

The mood in the Wing dimmed in an instant. The relieved and excited smiles plastered on everyone’s faces were suddenly replaced by nervous and deeply troubled scowls. 

“S-sorry…” Albus moved his hands away from her mother and instead enveloped his own hands together, staring at the bedsheets. He could still feel Scorpius’s leg by his, and that touch alone was enough to bring him haven from his darkest thoughts and memories. “I erm…I…forget it…”

“No,” Harry insisted, walking right behind Ginny and putting his hand by his son’s shoulder. “We need to talk about what happened down there. Everything. I only thought you boys needed to rest first. We can erm…discuss it tomorrow? Unless—?”

“I’m ready,” Albus sat up, his eyes watering, but his face determinately strong, “I’m ready to tell you everything.” 

Scorpius looked horrified. “I’m not!”

Albus stared at him. “What do you mean?” He said in a hushed tone.

“I don’t think we ought to talk about it. I don’t want to…” Tears started springing in his eyes. “I just want to forget about it…”

“Son…” Draco began. 

“Scorp!” Albus moved away from his parents, shaking their hands off of him. He veiled his arm around Scorpius, pulling him to his chest. Scorpius hugged him back, closing his eyes as the waterfall of tears kept spilling down his cheeks. Albus couldn’t help it. He had to do something to cheer him up. Would a kiss do? No, no, that would be far too obvious. He skated his fingers up and down the spine of his boyfriend’s back. “She can’t hurt me now. It’s over, Scorp.” He whispered. “It’s over…”

“I keep seeing it,” Scorpius sniffed, “What she did to you…”

Harry looked like he was ready to cast Avada Kedavra. “What did she do to you?” 

A wave of wrath rushed over Albus at the sight of Scorpius breaking down in tears. Never mind what Delphi did to Albus. Look what Delphi had done to Scorpius! He was traumatized! And it was all Delphi’s fault, and of course Yann’s. Both of them were to blame. “She tortured us, Dad!” Albus thundered, his face rising with anger. “Used an Unforgivable Curse on us! Yann was there, too! He—”

“Fredericks?” Draco was stunned. “Yann Fredericks?”

“Yeah,” Albus said coolly, “he’s working with Delphi! He’s been working with this monster of a person! HAS BEEN THE WHOLE DAMN TIME!” He was shouting now. “DELPHI KIDNAPPED SCORPIUS AND TOOK HIM TO THE MANOR AND BLOODIED HIM UP! ONLY SO I COULD COME FIND THEM!” Scorpius jerked away from Albus now, and was watching him with a distressed expression drawn on his petrified face. 

“Albus, it’s okay…” He tried to console him. “Don’t…don’t worry…I-I’m alright…”

“SHE’S A LEGILIMENS TOO SO THAT DOESN’T HELP AT ALL!” He was spitting as he bellowed. “IT WAS HELL, DOWN THERE. WE WERE TRAPPED. I COULDN’T…COULDN’T DO ANYTHING TO MAKE THEM STOP. THEY—” Albus took a deep breath before carrying on. His lungs hurt so badly, but he couldn’t stop shouting. He didn’t want to stop. “RODOLPHUS WAS THERE. HE WAS GUARDING ELFIE—SCORPIUS’S HOUSE ELF. DELPHI SAID…SHE SAID IF I DIDN’T COMPLY SHE WOULD KILL HER SO WHAT CHOICE DID I HAVE—?”

“Sweetie, slow down,” Ginny said calmly, doing her best to calm her son down. She took his hands, but he only shook her off of him. “What orders? What did she make you—?”

“I TOLD YOU NOT TO LISTEN TO HER!” Scorpius was yelling now—a shout so loud it surprised Albus, who faced Scorpius. “I TOLD YOU NOT TO DO IT!”

Albus glared at his boyfriend. “I COULDN’T LET HER DIE, SCORP!” 

“AND I COULDN’T LET YOU HURT YOUR—”

“I HAD TO DO IT! SHE WANTED TO KILL ELFIE! I COULDN’T LET YOU SEE THAT! IT WOULD HAVE BEEN HORRIFIC.” He was shaking at every word. Albus turned to his parents. “I HATED BEING DOWN THERE. IT WAS A NIGHTMARE! ALL THREE OF THEM ARE MAD, I’M TELLING YOU. THEY WERE WEARING AUGUREY MASKS—”

“Al,” said Harry with tears in his eyes, “please slow down so we can under—”

“DELPHI WANTED SCORPIUS FOR HIMSELF. TO BE A PART OF HER SACRED TWENTY EIGHT!”

Draco looked horrified. “She wanted to do what with my son—?”

“SHE’S SICK! THEY’RE COUSINS! SCORP AND DELPHI ARE COUSINS! NOT LIKE THAT MATTERED TO HER. SHE WANTED HIM TO BE WITH HER SO SHE COULD MAKE PUREBLOODS RUN THE WORLD!”

“Albus please—”

“WE HAD TO ESCAPE. AFTER SHE MADE ME DO THAT…I…WE…WE HAD TO FIND A WAY OUT…I HAD TO USE THE BLACK QUILL…IT WAS THE ONLY WAY…I DID IT SO WE COULD ESCAPE!”

“Darling, it’s okay…” Ginny tried to soothe her son. “Don’t blame yourself…”

“You’re safe now.” Harry reminded him. “You…you both are.”

“I DIDN’T WANT TO USE IT! DON’T YOU GET IT?” He bored his teeth together. “FOR THE FIRST TIME, I DIDN’T WANT TO USE THAT DAMNED QUILL! BUT IT DIDN’T MATTER, BECAUSE I USED IT ANYWAY!” 

“Al, I don’t…don’t understand…” Harry was trying his best to make sense of what his son was saying. “What do you mean you didn’t want to use it for the first time—?”

“The Black Quill?” Ginny took a deep breath. “The one Yann gave to you…?” She met Harry’s eyes and then her son’s. “I think I know what you’re trying to tell us. We…we know…”

Albus stopped screaming. He took turns staring from one parent to the other. “You know?” Albus paused. He met eyes with Scorpius, who nodded at him, understanding Albus’s anger. With a single stare, Scorpius let Albus know that it was okay. It was okay to yell…to get all of that bottle up ire out of his system. Albus nodded back at him and cranked his head back at his Mum. “What…what do you mean you…you know?”

“We know this was Delphi’s doing.” Ginny said, trying to smile bravely. “This wasn’t your fault, darling.”

Albus swore under his breath, sighing disappointedly. She didn’t understand after all. 

“Something awful happened, didn’t it?” Harry asked his son, whose face was uncomfortably pale. “When we found you…when Scorpius alerted us about you…you were screaming…it wasn’t a normal sort of shout, either…it wasn’t like you were afraid. You…you were in pain, Albus. Serious pain. It was like someone had used the Cruciatus Curse on you.” He swallowed a lump in his throat. Ginny could tell he did not want to carry on with this conversation, but forced himself to do so anyway. “Worse of all, t-t-those cuts? The ones we saw on your forearms earlier…the cuts you refuse to speak to us about…they’re back again now. The only logical solution…the only one we could come up with…is that Delphi made you do this. I must ask you. Is it true? Did…did Delphi make you use the Black Quill, Albus?”

It was as if Albus was suddenly aware of how tired he was. How much energy he used shouting, repeating horrid details of what had occurred only hours ago. His Dad asked him a question. An important question. Was he…was he supposed to lie? Or was this his moment? Was this his glorious moment to finally be honest? Telling the truth often did more harm than good. Albus knew that more than anyone. 

“I…I...” Albus struggled with the words, feeling utterly defeated. He was profoundly tired. Tired of lying. Tired of pretending he was fine when he was far from it. Tired of pretending he fancied girls. He wanted to stop it all. He wanted to start over and live a life of honesty. He was through playing charades. This…this was it, wasn’t it? There was no going back. He had to tell them the truth. And he would. He would. Once he said this…once he admitted this…there was no going back. Albus took a very deep breath before continuing. “I use the Quill on purpose, Dad.” Albus said shakenly, gathering the strength he needed to meet Harry’s green eyes. 

“Purpose?” Harry choked out. “I…I don’t…don’t…”

“I cut myself.” Albus whispered, feeling the room fill with silence. 

Harry and Ginny did not know how to process such a thing. They had never anticipated that these words would fall out of the mouth of their youngest son. 

I cut myself. I do it on purpose.

It was a hellish sort of nightmare they were dropped upon. 

“Delphi she…she knows about this so she used it against me.” Albus explained quickly, as if that would make things better for his parents. “She told me to use the Quill or else she’d have Elfie killed.”

“Sweetheart!” Ginny was on the verge of tears as she clutched Albus’s hand, squeezing it. 

“No…” Harry sunk down beside his youngest son, wishing he’d heard wrong. He brought his hands to his face and snapped his eyes shut. “No…” He moaned.

“Harry—?” Ginny spoke feebly, unsure how her husband was reacting. 

“I’m—” Albus stammered. “I’m s-s-sorry…the last thing I want to do is disappoint you…”

“Disappoint us?” Harry moved his hands away from his face, water spilling from his emerald eyes. “You aren’t a disappointment, Al. Why…why would you do this to yourself?” He questioned, trying to take the green towel off of Albus’s forearms, but Albus quickly smacked his free hand onto his wrists. “Why would you—?”

Draco merely looked away from the Potter family. 

“Scorpius,” he whispered very quietly, “come.”

“I need to stay—need to help…” Scorpius said determinately. 

“No you don’t!” Draco barked, taking his son’s hand and leading him out of the Wing without looking back.

Harry sat fully on the left side of the bed, while Ginny stayed on the right. “What made you…made you want to do this?” 

“Dad…”

“Please, son.” Harry placed his hand with Albus’s, trying hard to comprehend. “We’re listening. Tell us everything.”

“I erm…” Albus perched his head down at the lime towel and pressed soothingly against his cuts. “J-just hated myself…hated Hogwarts…hated the bullying…hated Yann…hated who I am…”

“Would it be easier if you switched schools?” Ginny proposed attentively. “Perhaps Durmstrang?”

“No way!” Albus cried, drawing away from her. “I wouldn’t dare leave Scorp here!” 

Ginny met her son’s eye at the name of Scorpius Malfoy. “Albus, whatever it is,” she said gently, “you can tell us.”

“I’m going to stop, I swear. I’ve only been cutting since fourth year.” Albus was hoping this bit of information would help ease their minds, but it only made them feel worse by the frightened looks sketched on their despondent faces. “It was all Yann’s fault.” He sulked even though a part of him knew his tormentor wasn’t all to blame. “Yann was the one who gave me this stupid Quill. I didn’t know it would make marks appear on my skin. Words written in my blood. It hurt. It hurt every time I used it. B-b-b-but…but after I while, the pain…it…it comforted me. Made me forget what pain I was dealing with every day. It made me forget…for a bit…how bad things are. So I used it more frequently. A little escape.” He stared at his parents, waiting for either of them to say something. “But…but once Scorp and Rose found out…and James, too… I’ve…I’ve made a decision to stop.”

“It won’t be easy,” Ginny said quietly, “to just stop at the drop of the hat.”

“I know,” Albus said quickly, “I know. But…but I am going to try. I want to…want to stop. Especially after what happened with Delphi. I don’t…d-don’t want to do this. Don’t want to be like this. I want to stop. I swear, I do. I don’t want to hurt myself anymore. Please…p—please…believe me…”

“We…we believe you, Al.” Harry choked out. 

Ginny held her husband’s hand, squeezing it. She gave her son a watery smile. “We’re going to make sure you get help.” Her lips trembled. “We’ll have you meet one of the Healers from Hogwarts every day after class to make sure you do stop. Oh Al. Your beautiful, beautiful skin. Why would you hurt yourself? I am trying to understand, I truly am, love. I still don’t understand…why…”

“I can’t tell you.” Albus croaked. “It’s…it’s a lot of things…” 

Harry pulled Albus close to his chest. “I love you so much, Al. Tell us what made you want to do this. Did you…do you use the Quill because of me? Because of what I said to you? Our stupid fight?” 

“No, Dad.” Albus shook his head. “No. It wasn’t you. I promise.” 

“Then what was it?” Harry squeezed his eyebrows close together. “What made you want to…cut yourself?”

“I told you…” Albus breathed in heavily. “It’s people like Yann who bully me just because they can! It was a lot of things at once. The bullying. Rose and Scorpius dating. Having nightmares of Delphi—”

“What’s Scorpius dating Rose got to do with anything?” Harry made a bewildered face.

“Harry, let Al finish!” Ginny hissed. 

“I…I’m different, okay?” Albus rumbled. “I…I was…I am struggling with it. I hated being different and not understanding why I am the way I am.”

“There’s nothing wrong with being different, Al.” Ginny murmured softly, trying to latch eyes with Harry, who continued to gawk incredulously at their son. “We love you no matter—”

“No. Like really different,” Albus argued, surprised at how calm he was speaking. He was talking in a fast sort of tone, but the words that were dripping out of his mouth were confident, authentic and powerful. “I was terrified…terrified you both would hate me if you knew the truth…”

“The truth? What truth?” Harry leaned closer to his son. He really wanted to understand him. To comprehend everything his dear boy was saying. He wanted to know the reasons behind Albus’s self-infliction. “Knew what, Al?”

“I’m…” Albus bit his lip, forcing his green eyes to his parents. His heart was practically beating out of his chest like a ticking time bomb. His breathing grew strenuous, like he was being pushed underwater and couldn’t resurface. Trickles of sweat washed down his forehead. It was now or never, wasn’t it? Albus chewed his nails before finally peeping up timidly at his father. “I’m…I’m gay.”


	18. All He Ever Wanted

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> TRIGGER WARNING: MENTIONS OF CUTTING/SELF INFLICTION

Harry Potter fixed his green, emerald irises onto his son. 

He could still hear the foreign words float in slow motion through Albus’s quivering breath. 

I’m…I’m gay.

He waited for Albus to toss him a sly smirk. To admit he was only joking. Say it was nothing more than an invention created by his wildest thoughts. Confess James—the infamous pranker—had put him up to this. Harry wanted to give his son several seconds to come clean. He waited some more, his eyes bolting onto the grand clock that slung off the thinned walls like a gargantuan, rather primeval balloon. But nothing. Albus continued gawking at him, his eyes wide and illustrated with most fear as if he’d been plummeted into the Black Lake and had come face to face with monstrous Grindylows and rancorous Merpeople; Albus was pleading, it looked like, for Harry to respond. 

Harry didn’t know what to say. What to think! His…his son…his youngest son…Albus Severus Potter…was…was…gay? Harry was positive he heard wrong. That—that couldn’t be right. Albus never….never said anything to them before, why now? Albus never made it crystal clear that he fancied boys. He never dropped casual hints about his sexuality, either. He always talked about witches—about girls—whenever he was at Godric’s Hollow. Whenever the conversation came to having crushes and James—bless his soul—was going on about his bloody girlfriend—Albus always chortled along, revealing that he had feelings for a rather reserved and bright Ravenclaw. He’d always describe her as enthusiastic, breathtaking and proudly gloat how she is the cleverest witch in school—although Harry would always passionately argue that there was no witch smarter than Hermione. The point is, it all seemed so…convincing so… real. Surely all of that couldn’t have been created for the sake of fitting in? Then again, perhaps not. There was always truth buried in the depths of fiction. Perhaps Albus was only painting fantasies of what kind of boy he wanted in his life. It was just easier to say it was a girl. Now it was obvious he had been lying. That he was trying to fit in. That, after all this time, he was only pretending to be like everyone else—pretending to be straight. 

Harry couldn’t even remotely imagine what that must be like. Harry never had to go through that. He was never piled with ignominy whenever he thought about the love of his life, Ginny. Back at Hogwarts, whenever he had romantic feelings for another, he never felt he was doing anything bad. It was normalized; wizards liking witches and witches liking wizards. But it wasn’t the norm for witches to like witches or for wizards to like wizards. 

Albus probably felt shame whenever he thought about boys. How horrible it must be to walk around hating yourself. How alone he must have felt throughout this. Why did Albus wait so long to tell them? And why—why didn’t Harry come to this realization on his own? That would have been easier on his son, wouldn’t it? Rather than wearing a mask every day and cutting his precious skin to cope with it all. He was all alone, wasn’t he? His poor son had been struggling with all of this since he realized he was gay. How long had Albus known he was gay? Harry speculated. For years or was it a recent discovery? 

Harry opened his mouth— thinking he had everything he wanted to say to him – but cowered last minute and closed it once more. Truth be told, he didn’t know what to say nor was he aware on how to say it. He wanted to ask Albus so many questions, but wasn’t sure if he was allowed to. He didn’t want to accidentally upset his son whose temper was about as explosive as the Miraculous Mystic Mayhem Makers fireworks from the Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes. 

Harry moved his discombobulated gape over to his dear wife, yearning greatly for her much needed assistance, but to his bafflement, she only gave him a dawdling, chary nod. She was beaming for goodness sake! What, for the love of Dumbledore, was she so disdainful about? Ginny was sneering at her husband’s utter obliviousness, was that it? She knew this entire time, didn’t she? Of course she did. She is Ginny Weasley Potter after all—nothing gets past her. She knows just about everything from who won the 1974 Quidditch World Cup—it was the Syrian Quidditch team—to where Lily had misplaced her personal diary—it was under the brown leather couch in the den. His wife certainly did not appear stunned at all by this certain disclosure. It was Harry who was new to all of this. Who was unaware of who his son really was. He tore away tartly from his wife’s supercilious stare. The last thing he needed was to be mocked by her. 

Albus couldn’t possibly believe he managed to tell his parents he was gay. Where was this sudden shimmering fluorescent of confidence and why has it left his system so soon? What he did was brave and mad all at the same time. How he was able to muster up the courage to come out was beyond his belief. It was surreal. He couldn’t fathom that after concealing such a secret for nearly his whole life, it was finally out. 

The truth. At last. 

This was the moment his life would never be the same. This was a good thing, though, wasn’t it? It…it had to be. It was rather liberating when Albus told James he was gay. It was as if he were finally given permission by his very self to simply be. Scorpius managed to come out to his Dad which proved to be quite successful—that is—until Delphi interfered. The bottom line was it was Albus’s turn now. The problem of course, was the tomblike silence. It made Albus queasy to the core. Why wasn’t Dad saying anything? Albus pondered. It felt like the Wing had been invaded by Dementors, emptying the room from all its happiness, all its joy. Did Albus—? Did he make a mistake coming out? Had he come out too soon? Did he not give them a chance to digest such a news? Was the timing all wrong? 

Albus debated whether it was wise to make a run for it or not. He wanted to jump out of the bloody bed and leave the Hospital Wing. The Room of Requirement was one option. But Albus knew being by himself wouldn’t be the wisest idea. Naturally, he thought of Scorpius. It would be quite nice to finish what they started, now wouldn’t it? Albus quickly shook that thought away. They were to take things slow. Not rush into anything. Going to see Scorpius now wasn’t the greatest idea seeing as he knew his boyfriend was just about exhausted as he was. He needed his rest and Albus didn’t want to intrude on that. Another idea took over Albus. Why didn’t he think of it before? Albus should make his way up to the Gryffindor Common Room and slip into his brother’s room. He needed to confide in James and tell him how cataclysmic coming out to his parents proved to be. Should he—? Should he take back what he said? Say he was joking? That might cheer them up? No, no. He’s come too far just chicken out. Albus Severus Potter was no coward. So Albus was gay—it wasn’t a big deal, now was it? It was people like Yann who made it a big deal. People like Polly Chapman and Karl Jenkins. Albus felt himself turn ice cold. The bullying would get a whole lot worse if Polly and Karl knew he was gay—it would worsen for poor Scorpius too. Albus let out a deep sigh. It didn’t matter if they would be tormented even more. He had Scorpius and Scorpius was all he needed. Who cares if half the school disproved of him? What mattered was that his family—his parents accepted him. Not being accepted at school is one thing. But not being accepted at home was another. He wasn’t sure if he could deal with facing oppression at home. Was Delphi right after all? Would his parents disown him? Kick him out of the house and force him to live on the streets? What was he thinking? That didn’t sound like the parents he grew up with. The parents he grew up with took him to the 427th Quidditch World Cup when he was eight, not minding at all that he—along with his Mum— were the only ones of the family who wore shimmering green to support the Brazilian team while the rest of the Potters sported red clothing for Bulgaria. The parents he grew up with comforted him from nightmares when he was 10, after James scared him with mad stories about the ghosts called “Gloomy Nuns.” The parents he grew up with didn’t mind at all whenever Albus would sometimes glance fascinatingly at the elegant witch’s clothing whenever they were at Madam Malkin's Robes for All Occasions. The parents he grew up with fed him with unwavering affection, support and care—and still continue to do so today. His parents weren’t bad people. They weren’t the kind to toss their children out after discovering they were gay. Albus refused to believe his parents were capable of doing such thing. Then why weren’t they saying anything? He deliberated with suffocating paranoia. Someone say something already! The voice in the back of his mind kept seething. 

This was the worst kind of silence. He could hear the jagged beats of his heart bounce out of his chest; not to mention it felt like there was a Hippocampus pressing its sharp hooves at the very centre of Albus’s chest, causing him to gasp for air. His head suddenly felt like it weighed nearly as much as an Antipodean Opaleye. Albus swore he would pass out in no time. Perhaps he’d obliterate into a million pieces from all this tension. Good thing he was at the Hospital Wing then.  
Albus tilted his head slightly to the right so he would be able to catch a glimpse of his Mum—who streamed a ray of light with her pink lips. Just as quickly, Albus turned his head back, and continued daubing the lime green towel onto his scarred forearms, his gleaming green eyes narrowing to the blanket which was draped over his legs like a tent. Was that—? Was that a smile from his Mum? Yes…it was. This was a good sign! His Mum seemed alright with it, so the question was: why wasn’t his Dad? Perhaps it would be best if the searing silence was shattered. Someone had to start the conversation after all. 

Albus licked his dry lips while pressing the dank cloth harder on his cuts. “I—”

But at the same time, Harry said, “Al.”

Albus stopped speaking at once and his mouth half opened, appearing rather abashed; like a cat that had been caught eating a mouse whole. “R-right. Erm. S-sorry.” His nerves were all over the place. He couldn’t breathe, it seemed. “C-c-carry on…”

Harry removed his black round rimmed glasses and cleaned its dirty lens against his ripped sea blue robes before finally placing his glasses back on his pale face. He closed a hand on his son’s leg. “Albus…Al. I-I want you to know that I don’t—could never—”

He hates me! Albus was nearly hysterical and began muttering curse words to himself. He couldn’t let his Dad finish that sentence. He could never what? Accept him? That’s what he was going to say, wasn’t it? What was Albus thinking, coming out? Just because Scorpius’s Dad approved of him, didn’t mean Albus’s Dad would. His Dad hates him, that’s what Harry wanted to say. Albus didn’t want to hear his Dad out. It would hurt too much. 

“Whatever you want to say, just be honest. It-it’s okay if you—” But Albus stopped himself midway. No, he told himself. No, it wouldn’t be okay if his father hated him because of his sexuality. Albus continued battling with his inner thoughts until he had no choice but to watch them drift out of his very lips. “You don’t…don’t have to lie…” Albus said quite tensely; a mixture of fear and doubt obscuring his voice. “You don’t have to pretend…pretend you’re okay with it…okay with me…” 

“Al—” Harry said weakly. 

“I’m…” Albus heaved out a tired sigh. He wished he was a Legilimens. Not a manipulating, sick one like Delphi. A good one. The two men he was named after were Legilimens, after all. Why couldn’t he be one, too? Albus wished, with all his heart, that he could decrypt what his Dad was thinking. If only he was able to gather access of Harry’s deepest thoughts. His Dad was neither smiling nor frowning. He just appeared…conflicted. Or confused, was what it? It was hard to understand how his father was processing this all. “I-I-I—I’m…I’m s-s-sorry, D-Dad.” Albus stammered with a most petrified appearance, hiding his face with his shaken hands, the way his boyfriend usually did whenever he was embarrassed.

Ginny gave her son a grief-stricken gaze, her chestnut eyes sparkling with tears. “Why—for the love of Dumbledore—are you sorry?” 

Albus lifted his head up timorously, turning to her. “B-because I’m wrong.” He whispered through his fingers before placing his hands on his lap again. “I’m…I’m sick, aren’t I? That’s what people say…”

Ginny’s eyes darkened with fury, raising her nose up in antipathy. “Well those people can go—”

“People who say that,” Harry interrupted abruptly with a determined expression on his face, “they are the ones who are wrong. Not you, Albus. Not you.”

Albus was mildly sceptical. “I’m not… supposed…to be this way. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. Don’t you get it, Dad? I-I’m bad. I’m deviant. Diseased.” 

“NO!” Harry shouted, a yell so piercing, so unexpected, it made both Ginny and Albus jump. Harry’s emerald eyes travelled apologetically from his wife to his dear son. He didn’t mean to scare them for the love of Dumbledore. He just couldn’t stand—couldn’t bear to hear his boy—his incredible son—direct such hateful things to himself. Harry took his hand off of Albus’s leg and latched onto Albus’s shoulder instead, jerking his son closer to him, until their green emerald eyes were locked with one another. “No Al. Don’t say those things about yourself. You aren’t sick. There’s no potion to be brewed to cure you, if that’s what you’re thinking because there’s nothing wrong with you. This isn’t something for Madam Pomfrey to heal away. You aren’t sick. You aren’t something that needs fixing, alright? You are supposed to be this way.” His voice broke like glass as he continued gazing at his brave and brilliant boy. He brushed his hand into his son’s sweaty hair. He was so proud of Albus. He was proud of everything he was and everything he was yet to be. “There’s nothing wrong about you, son. Do you hear me? Nothing.”

Albus felt a sweet rush of relief in the pit of his stomach. His Dad…accepted him. It was too good to taste like reality. Albus had to double check. “Are you—? Are you sure?” His voice came out child-like and small. “Do you really believe all of that? Do you reckon there’s nothing’s wrong with me? Nothing at all?”

“Of course, Al.” Harry insisted. 

Albus felt a wrench of anxiety take over. “I think…I’m—I’m doing bad things. And…thinking bad things…”

A smile dawned on Ginny’s face. “Thinking bad things? What do you mean, Al? What are you doing you claim is so bad?” 

“S-Scorpius.” It was a hushed whisper so ominous and indistinct, Harry could have sworn his son was speaking Parseltongue. 

Harry smacked his lips together. “Sorry, didn’t catch that.” 

“I’m—” Albus took a great gulp of breath. “I’m…with…someone…”

“That’s—that’s lovely.” Harry smiled brightly, his voice quite high pitched—thrilled his son was slowly opening up to them. “Who is this lucky wizard? When can I meet him?” 

“Pathetic.” Ginny muttered friskily beneath her teeth. 

Harry disregarded her comment, continuing speaking to his son. “Well, Al. It’s okay to think things…when you’re with him. And it’s okay to do…things—?” His ears were flesh hot by the mere second. “You’re allowed…allowed to…erm…? Ginny, help me out…”

“Right,” Ginny beamed, “what we want you to know is, it’s perfectly fine to touch him or…snog him—”

“MUM!” Red foams puffed on Albus’s bony cheeks. “Okay we are—” Albus couldn’t hold it together. He burst out laughing as he covered his face with his hands—a habit he’d most definitely inherited from his boyfriend. “—done with—this…conversation.” 

Ginny and Harry too laughed along, knowing his son was probably beyond embarrassed by such a topic. Was this actually happening? Were his parents really giving him advice and guidance on snogging wizards? It was music to his ears, yet it was a song he didn’t want to hear ever again. The mention of kissing and touching boys made Albus’s mind skate over to his Scorpius. Albus couldn’t stop thinking about kissing Scorpius. How the taste of his tongue made him feel weak. How he felt loved and safe and drunk with love whenever Scorpius would touch him. How he thirsted to once again feel Scorpius’s smooth fingers circle around his bare chest. 

“Snogging is okay!” Ginny reminded him, wiping her eyes which were full of tears from all of the giggling. 

“But nothing else, Al!” Harry fumed strictly, although he still managed to wear a kind smile on his face. “You’re fifteen!”

“Oh come off it, Harry!” Ginny rolled her eyes. “Acting like you’ve never touched a girl when you were his age…”

Harry glared at her. “I didn’t!” He said acidly. 

“Cho Chang?” Ginny raised her eyebrows, still smiling. “Under. The. Mistletoe.” She added dramatically, as if it were the greatest scandal. 

Harry couldn’t believe his ears. “GINNY!”

“I’ve made my point.” Ginny said victoriously, winking at her son. “Touching above the waist, is allowed.” Ginny nodded, turning to her husband, who seemed disappointed and conflicted all at once. “I think that’s a fair rule. Al’s a responsible boy…”

“We forgetting about the Timeturner incident?” Harry said sarcastically. 

Ginny flicked him away with her wrist. “Oh shush.” She said hotly, her doe brown eyes flashing at him perilously. “I think Al is more than old enough to recognize what he should and shouldn’t be doing with a boy…” 

“MUM!” Albus shouted, covering his ears. “Please stop!”

“Love, we ought to have this talk.” Ginny urged him responsibly. “Especially since your love life differs from your siblings. I just want you to be careful and safe. Don’t rush into things.”

Albus wanted to disappear into thin air. “Mum, another day. Please. We’ve only recently gotten together. We’re taking it slow…”

“Good.” Ginny smiled satisfactorily.

“I’m really happy for you, Al.” Harry praised. “Truly. There’s nothing wrong about being in love with a boy. There’s nothing wrong with kissing him, or thinking about him in a…erm…intimate way—”

“Dad, I’m begging you—”

“—or touching him—”

“Enough, Dad!”

“…Or being with him. Understand?”

Albus didn’t think it was possible for his face to turn redder. “Got it.” He said quickly, hoping this would be the last of it. 

Ginny grinned at her husband and clasped her son’s hand, kissing it. “We love you, Al.”

“I’m sorry for being gay.” Albus said grimly. “I know this isn’t something that many people like to hear about their kids…”

“Parents who hate their kids for being gay,” Harry turned bright pink with fury, clenching his great fists, “shouldn’t even be parents in the first place.” He took a deep breath, exhaling and threaded his fingers with his wife, doing his best to calm down. “When you’re a parent…” He sighed once more. “…your job is to love your child unconditionally. And Al? We love you unconditionally. Always will.” 

“Thank you, Dad.” Albus whispered.

Ginny flashed her son a smile. “Love, don’t ever be sorry for fancying boys. If I don’t have to be sorry for liking wizards, then you certainly don’t have to.” 

Albus couldn’t help but laugh. “T-thanks.” He gushed, grasping tighter onto her hand. 

Harry noticed the cloth that was once wrapped around Albus’s arms had fallen onto the bed from all of the laughing and movement of the cot. There were large dark slashes that were cut onto his son’s skin. The marks, he noticed, seemed to be different this time. There were words. What did they say? Was that—? Did that say Death or was Harry seeing things? He knew this wasn’t the time to ask Al about it. He would ask him later, surely. When the time was right. 

Harry could feel the heated gaze of his wife but wouldn’t dare to look at her. He swallowed the lump in his throat, and knew, in this moment, that his Boggart had changed. Dementors were nothing compared to this. What he feared, most in the world, was this: his son cutting himself. His son purposely hurting his beautiful skin until it bled. The fact that Albus had not been manipulated to do it, like Harry was by Umbridge. His greatest fear was that his son knew exactly what he was doing—that he’d used the Black Quill and cut himself knowingly. Willingly. He did it because he didn’t know how to handle the pain he was swarmed with on a daily basis. It tore Harry’s heart in two. 

Harry spoke rather softly, almost like a lullaby. “Al. Being gay…being you…is no reason to cut yourself.”

Albus’s emerald eyes glossed with pain, realizing his scars were plain in sight for his parents to see. He shut his eyes, breathing loudly. “Do you—? Do you still wish I was never your son?”

“Oh Al.” Harry embraced his son in a large Hippogriff hug, holding him steadily by his broad chest. He pressed his lips to the top of Albus’s head while thick tears spilled down his cheeks. “Never.” He whispered. 

“T-thank you.” Albus choked out, fastening his hands tighter around his father’s shoulders. 

“I love you, Al.” Harry consoled, letting go of his son and smiling down at him. “Doesn’t bother me the slightest that you fancy wizards.” 

Albus grinned largely at Harry, and then at his Mum, who joined in on the hugging. She stretched her arms towards her son and pecked a long kiss on his forehead.

“You knew, didn’t you?” Albus asked her with a little laugh.

Ginny smirked at him, plucking the bobby pin out of her thick rosy hair. “Naturally.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Harry rounded on her, scratching the back of his neck, feeling about as stupid as a Gilderoy Lockhart who had blasted Obliviate on himself in Harry’s second year at Hogwarts. 

“Because,” Ginny groaned, as she stared at the humble face of her youngest son, “it wasn’t my secret to tell.”

“Reckon you’ve got a point.” Harry surrendered, realizing she was—as usual— right. “Al?” Harry cleared his throat. “Is it—? Is it okay if I ask questions about—? About you? I want to know more about you, if you’d let me.”

Albus was smiling harder—longer, until his cheeks burned like fire, in the best kind of way. His Dad was trying. Trying to understand him and Albus knew, right now in this moment, if he would have to conjure a Patronus charm, and had to think of a happy memory—his happiest of memories, he would pick this moment, right here, right now. This moment where his parents accepted him, fully, for who he is. This moment, where his Dad wanted to know more about who Albus truly was. Albus couldn’t have been happier. 

“Of course!” Albus agreed a little too enthusiastically. He threw the blankets off his legs and quickly folded them together, sitting cross legged, his spine upright. “Ask me anything.” He simpered.

Harry adjusted his rimmed glasses. “How long have you known you were gay?”

Albus hesitated. “I’ve always fancied boys. Had little crushes here and there. I just didn’t understand what they meant. Always flicked them away, pretending they weren’t anything of real importance. I was rather confused, I guess. B-but when I met Scorpius—” His ears were scarlet. “—it was like I could see clearly. It was like I finally understood what it was like to love someone.” 

Ginny grinned while Harry looked as though he’d been hit in the back of the head with a rogue bludger.

“You—?” Harry shook his head, once again, tired of being the last to know everything. He didn’t have to turn to his wife for support. With that smile on her face, it was more than obvious that this was no surprise to her. “You and Scorpius—? Scorpius Malfoy? You two are…are dating? That’s the boy you like? Blimey, you’ve snogged him as well?”

“Harry…” Ginny warned. “You don’t have to answer that last question, darling!”

“Scorpius and I are boyfriends.” Albus blushed. “And yeah, we’ve…erm snogged.” 

“I should have known.” Harry grinned, thumping himself with his hand lightly on the forehead. “Am I clueless or am I clueless?”

Ginny and Albus smiled at each other. “You’re clueless.”

It shocked Albus how easy it now was to talk to his parents about these things. This conversation would once be deemed a taboo; an impossible subject at the Potters. But now—? After coming out and gaining their acceptance, Albus felt like there was nothing he couldn’t tell them. That there was absolutely nothing to be ashamed of. He felt unconquerable; a burning fire of pride flickered at the centre of his chest. He was no longer slouching as he spoke, but was sitting upright, shoulders up, chest puffed out. He was proud. Proud of himself. Proud to be Scorpius’s. 

“Is—? Is that why you always sleepover at the Manor—?”

“Harry!” Ginny snapped.

“Dad, no!” A part of Albus was horrified, and another part of Albus felt like he was going to pass out with jollity. “I didn’t—we never did anything. Except sometimes…we’d wake up, and we’d be hugging each other.” Albus paused to smile, recollecting such a memory. Scorpius was quite delicate and soft. Albus loved looping his arm around his silky body. He quickly snapped out of such a daydream, talking at the speed of light, feeling his legs turn to jelly. Did he really say all of that? He wanted to sprint out of the room, yet his feet were locked in place. “B-but no. We never did anything….romantic. We never admitted our feelings for each other until erm today, really.”

Ginny rested her closed fist on her oval chin, smiling. “What is it you like about him, Al? Scorpius?”

Albus heaved a joyful sigh, feeling a scorch of fervour blaze over his face. “Much time have you got?” 

“All the time in the world.” Harry beamed.

Albus didn’t want to wait. He couldn’t quite help it. He just started chirping away, as if he were holding all of these emotions, all of these thoughts away and wanted so badly to let them loose. “I love the way he laughs. He laughs with everything he’s got.” Albus blushed heatedly. “It’s as if someone had told him the funniest joke in the world. I could close my eyes and listen to that adorable—beautiful laugh my whole life…I love the way he smiles…he has a rather shy smile too, if you stare at him for too long…he’s always the first to break eye contact because he just gets so nervous it makes me sick—in the best way of course! I love how his skin is always quite warm…probably to match that great big heart of his…” 

“Hang on, Al. His skin?” Harry’s eyebrows soared up so high, it nearly touched his hairline. “How do you know what he feels like?”

“Oh will you stop!” Ginny snarled, her face about as irritated as Argus Filch whenever Peeves would play tricks on him. “You knew perfectly well what Cho’s skin was like in your fifth year! Stop pretending otherwise. Not to mention mine when we were sixteen—”

“GINNY!”

“Oh don’t look at me like that!” Ginny shot back. “I think it’s important for Albus to know we’ve had our fair share of dating and relationships, too.” She smiled sweetly at her son. “When I was fourteen, I dated Michael Corner. We met at the Yule Ball. He was quite nice until he got all pouty after Ravenclaw lost to Gryffindor in a Quidditch match…” 

Albus appeared rather entertained by this disclosure. Ginny was with a bloke named Michael Corner? What was he like? Albus marvelled. His Dad dated someone named Cho Chang when he was Albus’s age? He snogged her as well? And under a Mistletoe, too. That seemed rather romantic. It was most intriguing to hear about their pasts. 

Albus smirked at his parents. “Have I scared you off, then?”

“Certainly not!” Harry objected, shamefaced. “I was only being…”

“An overbearing parent.” Ginny cut in. She sneered at her husband fiercely. “Mollycoddling, wouldn’t you say?” Harry smiled at her, shaking his head. Ginny gave her son a supportive thumbs up. “Do continue.” 

“No way,” Albus snorted, “don’t accidentally want to get into trouble. I’ll save this conversation for later.” He paused for a bit, clipping a finger in his mouth, chewing his nails scattily. “I-I want Scorp and Draco to come to our house for dinner.”

Harry swore under his breath while Ginny simpered pleasingly. 

“Definitely.” She sang enthusiastically, the way his sister, Lily usually did whenever she was happy. “We’d love that, wouldn't we Harry?”

Harry was quiet for a moment. “It will be hard…having to get along with Draco. But…Al? For you—for you, I will do it. And for Scorpius. I would love to get to know your boyfriend more. I’m excited to.” He smiled. “We’ll have them over soon. I promise.”

“Thank you!” Albus beamed so hard his cheeks started turning throbbing. He couldn’t recall a time when he was smiling so much that it hurt. Everything seemed to be working in his favour. He wasn’t used to be treated with such grace by the universe. Albus peered down at his wrists, knowing this topic had to be discussed. He didn’t want to delay it any longer. It would just create more tension and problems. He had already come out to his parents, and the result was immeasurable. Now…now he had to discuss another rather serious matter. It had to be done. “I know you have been meaning to ask...” He said quietly. “I-I know it’s something you both have been wondering about…” He held up his damaged forearms to their faces, watching them doing their absolute best to remain composed. Ginny was most convincing while Harry—his face was just as bad as Rose’s. “The cuts…it says…Death Shall Take. Delphi made me write that.” The faces of his parents were growing more and more confounded. “I hate to bring this up, really, but, I have to ask…do…do I—? Do I have a Prophecy?”

The frowns on his parents’ face formed into horror. 

“Al, sweetie,” Ginny began. “You did, but we had it—”

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Albus sulked. 

“The same reason you didn’t tell us about who you really are.” Harry said, looking guilty, “Because we were scared.”

“It wasn’t just any Prophecy, either.” Ginny said gravely. “It was—”

“An Ill-Fated one, I know.” Albus grumbled, shimming out of their arms and slouching again. “Use me as your own personal noose. Your lover’s blood is now on the loose. A tortured mind will go mad. Death shall take the second Dad.”

Harry’s jaw dropped. “Al…Al…please don’t say that again…”

“Harry’s right,” Ginny agreed, appearing rather anxious and solemn, clearly worried someone would overhear their conversation, “repeating it only makes matters worse.” She tried to knit her brown eyes onto Albus, but every time she did, Albus only turned the other way. She was utterly defeated. She didn’t want her son to be angry at Harry again. They were just patching things up between them; turning over a new leaf. “Oh love, please don’t be upset. We did it for the Greater Good. We wanted to shield you from the Prophecy. We didn’t know what the Prophecy meant, exactly. All we knew was we had to keep it hidden. From the world. From you.” 

“Well, it didn’t work,” Albus said mordantly, “Delphi got a hold of it and used it against me. But…but in the end…” A cunning sneer crept onto his face. “In the end, I used it against her…”

“What are you talking about, Al?”

“Did—?” Albus sighed. “Did my Prophecy come with any article? A Black Quill?”

Harry was outraged. “No, of course not.” His eyes kept skittering over to Albus’s arms. 

“Delphi must have planted the Quill then.” Albus thought aloud, tapping his chin. He sighed again. “Scorp doesn’t want to talk about what happened in the Cellar. But I do. Delphi…she made me write the Ill-Fated Prophecy with the Black Quill.” 

“My poor boy!” Ginny clung onto Albus’s wrists, examining them. “Oh Al! These marks—they’re awful! We should add more of the Essence onto your cuts…”

“Mum, I’m fine!” Albus claimed, pulling away from her. “Really. I’m okay now.” 

“Al, show me.” Harry propped close, drawing his fingers by Albus’s wounds. It ached to see his son’s scars, but he didn’t want Albus to know that. “This…this is the last line of the Prophecy, isn’t it?”

“Erm, yeah.”

Harry squinted his thick eyebrows together. “This says Death Shall Take.” He looked up at his dear son, amazed at Albus’s braveness. “You didn’t finish it?”

“Changed my mind.” Albus said proudly. “The thing is…” His smile disappeared as quickly as it came. “She didn’t let us leave the Cellar. Threatened to torture Scorpius. Said she would kill his House Elf if I didn’t agree to write the lines of the Prophecy with the Quill. So I obeyed her. I wrote the Prophecy with the Black Quill. But—I stopped at that line because I conjured up a plan. Besides, I didn’t think she deserved that satisfaction of watching me in pain. She did seem to be enjoying it, though. Mad, she is. The Prophecy was hidden away to be forgotten, but in the end, it was supposed to be found. It’s a good thing, too.”

“How—?” Ginny’s mouth was half opened. “How is this a good thing, love?” 

“Every bit of the Prophecy came true, that’s why,” Albus carried on. “It’s over now. There’s nothing to be scared of, anymore.”

“What do you mean it came true, Al?” 

“Scorp and I decoded it, and soon watched it all unfold before our very eyes. The first part, talks about me cutting myself. The second, talks about Delphi being on the loose. And the part where it says A Tortured mind will go mad referred to Draco Malfoy since he was under the Imperius curse. And the last part…” Albus paused slightly, his voice awfully forbidding. “The last one is about…about killing the second Dad. At first Scorp and I thought it was talking about you or Draco. But…it was talking about Delphi’s second Dad. Voldemort was her first Dad. But when he died, Bellatrix’s husband, Rodolphus Lestrange took care of her. And, well—he was in the Cellar with us and I…I r-r-realized what had to be done. I…I killed him, Dad. I killed Rodolphus Lestrange. I killed the Second Dad.” Albus knew he was supposed to feel remorse after saying such a statement. He was supposed to feel something. Pain. Regret. Guilt. Sorrow. But he didn’t. He didn’t feel anything at all. Except perhaps pride. “Am—? Am I bad?”

Harry was silent for a moment. “We’ve…we’ve all done things we wish we could undo…”

“That’s the thing!” Albus said with a rise of panic. “I’m not sorry. If I had a Timeturner—” He ignored the alarm in his parents’ eyes once he mentioned Timeturner. “—If I had a Timeturner, I wouldn’t change anything. I’d do it again! I’d light the Manor on fire and watch him meet his death—”

“Surely you don’t mean that,” Ginny tried to smile.

Albus ducked his head down. “I wish you were right, Mum.”

“I am.” Ginny averred, her voice becoming louder. 

“Ginny…” Harry stopped her. “It’s alright. Let Al talk to us…”

“What?” She thundered. “Our son is no killer, Harry.”

“I am, Mum.” Albus told her, wishing she would just hear him out. 

“YOU’RE NOT!” Ginny yelled. She let go of her son’s hand and stormed out of the Wing, trotting into the empty corridors. 

“Mum!” Albus called after her.

But she didn’t look back.

Harry pulled Albus close to him. “Your Mum will come around. Death…death has always been a touchy subject with her—especially because of Fred dying in the war…Your Mother, she’s been through a lot. Voldemort…he was an awful wizard, you know that. Full of prejudice. Hate. Darkness…”

Albus clutched his father’s hand, surprised at how protected he felt being in the arms of his father. Normally, he wouldn’t come close to his Dad. He wouldn’t want anything to do with him. After the whole Timeturner incident, things have slowly been sewn back together, but they weren’t perfect. But now—? After coming out…coming clean with all of his secrets, it was like they’ve broken down the wall between them. 

The Wing door flew open, and Harry and Albus turned—hoping it was Ginny, but were disappointed to see it was only Hannah Abbott—a new Healer at Hogwarts—who was levitating an injured fifth year onto the very last bed of the Hospital Wing. Curiously, Albus stared at the boy, who was fast asleep. Albus bounced off the bed, with Harry cautiously following behind him until Albus stood at the foot of the boy’s bed, getting a closer look at the him, recognizing the boy at once. Albus gasped, stepping back. It was Kasim Klayton. He was wearing his Ravenclaw robe and had dark skin and black corkscrew, coiled hair. He was in Potions class with Albus and Scorpius, often defending them whenever people would taunt them. 

Hannah administered bandages on his left leg. 

“Wha—? What’s wrong with him?” Albus said nervously, his heart bouncing all over the place with anguish. 

Hannah met eye contact with Harry; the two nodded respectfully. He remembered her when they were kids. They were never really friends. Acquaintances. Hannah pushed her blonde hair out of her face, frowning at Albus. “Been hexed— hit by a nasty curse from that Jenkins boy.” Albus’s face darkened with rage, ready to snap. But it was as if she read Albus’s mind and could easily predict his behaviour. “No need to play the hero, Albus. Jenkins is in detention.”

“Right,” Albus said thickly, “By the time Karl’s made it out of detention, he’ll come back tomorrow and do it again.” 

Hannah applied a bottle of potion onto one of the cuts on Kasim’s arm. It seemed she was preoccupied tending Kasim, and only half listening to Albus. “Kids can be cruel, I know.” She murmured. 

“Come on, Al,” Harry instructed, “sit back and let her do her work.” 

Albus glanced sadly at Kasim before following his Dad’s heels. “I’m going to kill Jenkins.” He vowed through gritted teeth. “Just wait—”

“You only say that because you’re upset Al—and you have every reason to be…” Harry said gently, pulling up two wooden chairs by Albus’s bed for Harry and his son to sit. 

Albus spun his head around the Wing, gazing at the direction where Hannah and Kasim were. He lowered his voice just to be sure they couldn’t be overheard. “Perhaps—? Perhaps there’s a darkness in me, too. The same one that is in Delphi. In Voldemort.”

“Al, what you’ve got to remember is—” Harry stopped midway, realizing they weren’t alone anymore. His eyes travelled to Hannah, who covered Kasim with thick woolen blankets. She started travelling down the aisle of the Wing, making her way to the entrance, her boots clicking as she walked and halted abruptly when she came to Albus and Harry. She smiled generously at them, pitching a handful of Chocolate Frogs by the dresser of Albus’s bed before departing the Wing. 

“Thanks.” Albus said politely. 

“My pleasure.” Hannah responded as the door shut. 

Harry gazed at his son again. “There’s no scrap of darkness in you, Albus Potter.” He stated. 

“There was in Dumbledore, wasn’t there?” Albus’s voice was becoming quieter. “And Snape?” Albus pulled his legs up to his chest, fastening his arms around them. Albus tried to get his Dad to see his point. “And Dumbledore…he was gay, like me. He fell in love with Gellert Grindlewald. Grindlewald was nearly as dark as Voldemort, if not more.” He chewed on his nails with most angst. “What if I’m like Grindlewald? What if I’m bad?”

Harry thought of the true, honest and comforting words spoken by his Godfather Sirius Black and beamed at his son. “You know…” he said quietly, brushing his fingers into Albus’s dark hair. “When I was your age, I used to worry about the same thing. I used to think…because I saw a lot of darkness in my life, I was turning into my trauma. I believed I was doomed to live a life of darkness. That there was something evil growing inside of me. But I was wrong. You killed a man. But why did you? For fun? Or to protect your loved ones?”

“I…I did…did it to save Scorpius.” Albus said shakily. “To save myself. I did it so we could get out of the cellar. I realized the Prophecy was talking about Rodolphus as the Second Dad, and knew his time of death was near. I didn’t want to cast the Killing Curse on him. I couldn’t kill him directly. So I cast Fiendfyre. We then cast a full binding curse so he wouldn’t be able to move. And…and the fire started attacking him. He was dead in minutes.” 

“See now that’s the difference between you and Voldemort. He would have cast Avada Kedavra. But you couldn’t bear to cast such a curse. Why is that?”

Albus observed a Lacewing fly flitter onto the brown dresser, resisting the urge to hit it. “I…I suppose because we’re different…”

Harry snapped his fingers. “Exactly, Albus! Exactly.” 

Albus seemed reassured now, as his shoulders steadied. “I suppose I ought to tell you something else, too. The…the reason…I…s-s s-s-stopped using the Quill down at the Manor was because…I could hear Delphi’s voices, Dad. It grew louder each time I used the Quill. It seems…every time I use the Quill, the connection…the communication between us grows stronger, clearer. The reason she wanted me to cut, was so she could sway my thoughts with her words.”

Harry’s face was unreadable. “Has it stopped, the voices?” His voice quivered. 

Albus bit his lip, thinking, looking thoughtful as his eyes skated towards the grand clock on the wall: 3:01 a.m. It was late. Very late, wasn’t it? “Since I threw the Quill in the pool of fire, yeah.” 

“Albus,” Harry said desperately, doing all he can to make his son believe he wasn’t absolutely terrified, “listen to me. These voices? What exactly do they do?”

Albus mustered out a yawn. “Dad, I’m getting tired…”

“I know,” He empathized, grasping his shoulder sharply, “I swear you can head to bed soon. Just—tell me what these voices do!”

Albus closed his eyes, and crumbled his head onto the shoulder of Harry. “Erm. They just…whisper things. I have nightmares about Delphi and those nightmares are just…visions—I suppose…visions of what she wants me to see. But since I chucked the Quill, the nightmares the voices…they’ve all stopped. All I’ve been getting is dead silence. Nothing to worry about…I…I know what you’re thinking. I’m not a Horcrux, Dad.” 

“I must investigate this Quill, Al.” 

“Perhaps.” Albus said sleepily. “But the Quill’s probably burnt to crisps.” 

Harry didn’t want to admit that Albus was probably right. He held hope that it would be found. Harry had already ordered the Ministry to conduct a thorough investigation at the Manor. Surely, they are bound to recover pieces of the Quill. 

“Al?” Ginny tiptoed back in the Wing, her eyes red and puffy with deepest aching and unhappiness. It was apparent she had been crying.

Albus opened his eyes with delight at the sound of his Mother’s voice. He sat up, watching her closely. 

Ginny walked over to her son, throwing her arms around him. “I’m sorry…for shouting…I….I don’t normally shout—”

“Actually,” Albus said slyly, still holding onto her, “you do.”

“Oh shut it.” Ginny said gruffly, slapping his spine very lightly, and pulling him close. “I know…know it’s okay…what you did…I imagine that must have been scary…having to take a life… and even scarier to admit to us. I made it rather difficult for you to trust me again, now have I?” She leaned her back against the bed, watching her husband and son. 

Albus thought about it, pausing. “No, Mum, you didn’t. I’ll still—I’ll always come to you and Dad. No more secrets.” 

Ginny smiled bravely at him, and strolled over to the dresser, taking a Chocolate Frog and tossing it to her son, who clasped it in his hand, watching her with marvel. His Mum never allowed chocolate at Godric’s Hollow. They always had to sneak it into the house. This could only mean Ginny was exceptionally sorry for her little outburst. 

Harry watched his son unwrap the Chocolate Frog and grimaced He was starving. Perhaps if he pouted long enough, his wife would take pity on him and give him the go-ahead to himself to a Chocolate Frog, too. He locked his eyes on Ginny—who snorted loudly, flicking one at him, too. 

“Let’s talk about something…happy, shall we?” Ginny suggested considerately. “Can we ask any more questions about you?”

“Yeah.” Albus approved, checking the purple bluish package of the Chocolate Frog, grinning triumphantly when he saw the card he collected was a picture of Albus Dumbledore with this half-moon glasses smiling widely with those twinkling blue eyes of his. He slipped the card in his pocket, beaming. 

“Who was the first boy you fancied?” Ginny questioned. 

Albus swallowed the remaining bits of chocolate. “Gonçalo Flores.” He said hastily.

“The Brazilian Chaser!” Harry’s eyes widened, nearly spitting out the frog. “Of course!” 

“NO!” Ginny said, her face lighting up like a Christmas tree. “You really did fancy him? That’s why you’ve—?” She covered her face with her hands. “Merlin’s Beard, you loved him since you were eight! Always talking about how strong he looked. How he was beautiful in midair.”

Albus felt himself grow hot. “Did I honestly say all that aloud?” 

“Uncle Ron said similar things about Victor Krum,” Ginny smirked, “so I never really thought much of it.” 

“Blimey, you were obsessed with Gonçalo!” Harry chortled, remembering it all. “Had posters all over your wall. I remember—” Harry let out a great chuckle. “—during the match, when your boyfriend scored—”

“DAD!” 

“—you were so ecstatic that you nearly fell out from the VIP box!”

Albus giggled. “I remember that perfectly well.” He admitted bashfully. “James laughed at me as I tumbled pathetically. But Uncle Ron broke my fall and caught me just in time. Then you patted my head and gave me some of Luna Lovegood’s sweets.” Albus’s eyes swept the eager faces of his parents, who were smiling down at him. It was nice that they could talk like this now. He paused slightly. “I love you, Dad. And you, Mum.”

“We love you too, son.” Harry said, his spirits sinking, wondering why they’ve never been this close with another before. “I wish…wish we had known about you earlier. It would have helped you…helped us. Why—? Why didn’t you tell us sooner?” Harry said fishing out his wand and summoning the green cloth. He clasped it into his hands, dabbing it soothingly onto Albus’s forearms. 

“I was afraid.” Albus said quietly, watching his Dad add more of the yellowish Murtlap Essence onto the towel. “Didn’t have a clue how you’d take it.” He winced slightly when the soaked cloth touched his skin. “Ow!” He jumped. “S-sorry. Surprised me is all. It’s okay.” He told his Dad. “It’s…it’s a good kind of pain. It means it’s working.” 

“Surely you could have told someone elese,” Ginny murmured, “why not tell your brother?”

Albus snorted. “Like hell.” He said dully. “Thought he’d make fun of me even more.” 

“Must have been hard,” said Harry, the despondency in his eyes becoming more pronounced than ever, “having to walk around carrying such a secret.”

“It was,” Albus admitted, removing the towel from his forearms and peering darkly at his scars. They didn’t hurt as much as they used to. The aching of his skin burned slightly, but what had hurt even more was simply staring at them. Death Shall Take. It was a reminder of what happened in the Cellar. A reminder not of his self-infliction, but his reason not to. He wasn’t the same boy he once was. He wasn’t the boy who self inflicted due to the strangling self-loathing. That part of him no longer existed. He was sure that old part of himself was no more. He evolved. Grew. Albus was different. He felt it in his veins but didn’t know how to properly explain it in a way his parents would comprehend. “Being in the closet…” said Albus, heaving an enormous sigh, “…is like being trapped. There’s no way out. There’s barely space to breathe. And it’s obscured with darkness… not a trace of light in sight. And you’re all alone. There’s no one in there but yourself. It’s cold and empty in there…you get used to shivering in the darkness…for the frigidness to seize a part of you. Sometimes…when you’re in there for so long—for too long—you start smelling death. It’s tempting…to go through with it. But in the end, you know…you know it’s not worth it. You know you can’t stay in there for the entirety of your life. You know death isn’t the only means of escape. That it isn’t the only way out. Sometimes, in order to survive, in order to live the best life you deserve—you have no choice but to come out—regardless of your fear—your consuming fear— of facing oppression so you go through with it. You come out of the closet. But when you come out of the closet…” A sweet smile of liberation planted itself on Albus’s face. He squeezed some of the essence of Murtlap from the towel onto his scars, until he could no longer feel the stinging, searing pain, “…it’s like you’ve entered a new world. A rather beautiful world. You can finally see. There’s a blindness of light in all directions, it takes you by surprise. At first, it’s hard to adjust to…there’s overwhelming sunlight…you forgot what darkness feels like. And…there’s people…there’s a whole lot of people everywhere. Witches and wizards alike. People like you. People who’ve survived living in the closet. And—and everything has changed in an instant. You’re not alone anymore. You suddenly forget what the stench of death is like. You lose the enticement to depart the world. And—and mostly importantly you…you’re happy. You’re yourself. There’s no shame. No sorrow. Just happiness. And pride, yes there’s pride. Pride that you were able to survive all of those terrifying nights in the closet. You’re not trapped anymore. You’re not alone. You’re…you’re free.” 

There was a stream of silence as Harry and Ginny watched their son. He was rubbing his fingers up and down his forearm—which was blanketed with the cloth as he was speaking. Finally their son stared back at them, with a satisfied smile. It made sense…what he was saying…but it also broke their hearts. Harry’s heart had been broken before, sure—after Sirius died, when he thought Snape betrayed Dumbledore, when he heard Hermione being tortured down at Malfoy Manor—but not like this. This was a different kind of heartbreak. It nearly destroyed him, knowing that Albus had been hiding a whole part of his identity from him—from the world. That his precious son used the Quill to flee from all of the inner turmoil he was battling with. That it was an unimaginable, overwhelming struggle being in the closet. 

Harry knew firsthand what it was like to live in the closet—literally, not figuratively. But at the same time, everything his son was saying somehow related to him. Living in the closet at Number Four Privet Drive with the Dursleys—that was excruciating…it was everything his son had described. And…and coming out of the closet…that was like when Harry was rescued by Hagrid—when eleven year old Harry had first step into the Wizarding World. How comforting it felt for Harry to see witches and wizards alike…it brought him a sense of community…a beckoning symbol of togetherness and harmony. Perhaps Harry didn’t understand Albus…how it was difficult having to hide his sexuality, but what he did understand, was the emotions and feelings he was felt while living in the closet at the Dursleys, and the shining ball of hope—of happiness— he felt once he was free from such an abusive household.

“Is that how you feel now,” Ginny prodded, clutching her chest, so sure her heart would crush to pieces, “free?”

“Free. Happy. Proud.” Albus listed honestly. “Yeah.”

“And you—?” Harry swallowed the lump growing in his throat. “You don’t smell death anymore, do you?”

“Certainly not.” He stared at his parents. “Death was cunning. But I was even more. No matter what happened, I would never shake hands with death.”

“And now?” Ginny questioned, her face flustered with fright, which she didn’t seem to conceal well.

Albus thought about it. “I can’t…recall what that feeling’s like. But if I ever do…I will tell you. Both of you. You’ll have to help talk me out of it.”

“We will.” Harry said heavily. “Every. Damn. Time." 

“I’m free, now Dad.” Albus said. “No need to cry.”

Harry didn’t even realize he had been weeping. Albus leaned in and brushed his fingers by his father’s face, wiping away his streams of tears. “Wow Dad. You have a lot of wrinkles.” He teased.

Harry laughed. “That’s what being old does to you. Reckon when you’re my age, you’ll have twice as much.”

“I’ll apply excellent skin cream.” Albus smirked. 

Harry gave his son a compassionate smile, his white teeth shining. His son kept amazing him. He was awe-struck by his son’s courage…strength…determination, resilience. His son endured so much and was still here. Still standing. Still strong. He gathered his son close to his chest, hugging him long and slow. Albus closed his eyes and hugged his Dad back rather enthusiastically, patting his back. Harry rubbed his son’s black hair, appearing a mix between flustered and proud. 

“You’re probably the bravest boy I ever knew.” Harry murmured. 

Albus’s striking green eyes widened in astonishment. His insides did a somersault or two. His Dad had said that exact thing about Severus Snape—the great wizard he was named after. On Albus’s very first day of Hogwarts, at Platform 9 ¾, his Dad told him that he was named after Severus Snape, who was probably the bravest man he ever knew. Now—? Now to be told that he was probably the bravest boy his Dad ever knew? It was the highest honour. His Dad was only lying. He had to be!

“T-that…that…you…you don’t—?” Albus blundered piteously, practically forgetting how to speak in proper sentences. “You…you don’t really mean that, do you, Dad?”

“You’re right,” Harry said quietly, “I don’t.” He pursed his lips together, grinning at the great young wizard that was sitting before him, who was by far more heroic than anyone he’d set eyes on. “Albus Severus Potter, you are the bravest boy I ever knew.”

It was as if Albus suddenly realized he was never truly happy. He was happy some days, sure. But that brittle field of contentment was horribly unreliable—annoyingly short—temporary…always fading within minutes—hours—if he were lucky. Had Albus known happiness before this? Absolutely. He felt it whenever Scorpius was nearby. Whenever he and James got along. But on a day to day basis…his happiness just lurked from place to place, like a lost Grim Reaper, leaving him isolated and wretched. He never felt the emotion of happiness in its entirely. He was half-happy. But never fully happy. Completely happy. Not until this very moment. 

From this day forth, Albus knew, he was invincible. He could no longer be pushed to the edge by anyone or anything. Not the Black Quill. Not the Ill-Fate Prophecy. Not Yann. Not Delphi. Not any of those bullies that infested the grounds of Hogwarts. His Dad—his famous father Harry Potter—a wizard Albus swore he would never be able to measure up to—finally accepted him; finally saw him for who he truly was and loved him nonetheless. Albus was finally seen by Harry—and that’s all he ever wanted.


	19. Loyalties and Lies

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I apologize immensely for the super long wait, lovelies! College has been exceedingly busy and stressful ahh! Thank you for being so patient with me. You are all the bestttt!! :')

“Tell me again…how it went?” Scorpius asked Albus the following evening as he let out a breezy yawn, his head resting snugly on Albus’s lap, who was reading the Get Well Soon card his little sister had left him at the Hospital Wing. He smiled at the drawing of Lily and himself, shaking his head at how thoughtful she was. He held the card close to his puffed out chest before setting it aside on the night dresser, picking up a paperback by Gulliver Pokeby instead. His fingertips were completely covering the title of the book, as if he didn’t want anyone to know what it was he was reading.

Albus slid his slim fingers through the velvet vines of Scorpius’s alluring blonde hair. “He finally saw me…for who I am.” He grinned, turning a page of his book. “Said he loved me and always would. Called me—called me the bravest boy he ever knew.” Albus felt an indescribable rush of exhileration birth over him. 

Scorpius glanced up at him, beaming, twining his fingers with Albus’s. Albus was so…mesmerizing the way he smiled when he was really proud of something. How excited his voice would grow when he was talking about something he was particularly passionate about. The way his bewitching emerald green eyes would sparkle whenever he was exceptionally happy. How he’d blush deep red right at the very middle of his cheeks whenever Scorpius’s face would be only inches away from his…

“And he’s right." Scorpius said, bringing Albus’s hands closer and pulling him down by his forehead. "You are.”

Albus placed the book away and kissed Scorpius square on the forehead. Why did he even bother trying to read in front of him? Focusing was nearly out of the question, now wasn’t it? 

“OH GROSS!” James shrieked in fake horror, grinning.

“Shove off!” Albus muttered, kissing Scorpius full on the lips now. 

“Let them be!” Rose defended, rolling her eyes. “They’ve had to hide their feelings for years now.” 

The group of friends were in the Slytherin Common Room. Rose sat on the thick rolls of the green carpet by the cool dungeon floor. She was wearing a crisp black skirt and her Gryffindor sweater, her fine robes were thrown carelessly to the corner of the ground. She settled herself directly in front of the crackling fire, leaning her back against the leather couch her cousin and Scorpius were lying on. Her flowy auburn hair was twisted into a single ponytail, knotted with an orange clip at the very tip. Rose’s slim nose was pushed meticulously against the newest copy of the Daily Prophet, determined to read every scrap of lie its editors were stupid enough to publish. James, on the other hand, was trailing up and down the Common Room, sporting his long black pants and his Gryffindor Pride sweater—there were great red and golden stripes all over his beefy chest. He kept juggling his wand around with his huge hands before sticking it by his earlobe, looking rather ridiculous, although no one cared to say that aloud. He peeked his head out into the dusky green curtains, observing the crashing, seemingly overpowering waves of the Black Lake.

James turned to them, awe-struck. “Blimey!” He gasped excitedly. “Could have—could have sworn I saw the Giant Squid!”

“Managed to find a mirror, have you?” Albus leered. 

“Shut it!” James said sharply, striding towards the black sofa, and sitting on its jagged edge, frowning at the roll of parchment and Quill that belonged to him. “Remind me again why I’ve taken Muggle Studies. What a snore fest, that class is.” He sighed dramatically at his blank roll of parchment, appearing overly surprised that it was wordless and empty, as if he were expecting his homework to be done all on its own. 

“Muggles are fascinating.” Scorpius exclaimed, sticking his lanky arm in the air for Albus to take. Albus grasped hard onto Scorpius’s hand, who grunted, sitting up. He gaped at James’ bored expression, watching him soak the Peacock Quill into the opened bottle of ink. “Would you like me to help you?” Scorpius graciously inquired.

“H-help me?” James choked out. He couldn’t comprehend what Scorpius was suggesting. “Help me with…h-h-homework? M-my homework?”

Scorpius shifted his eyes from Albus to James, shrugging insouciantly. “Well. Yes.” 

James’s grin expanded so large, Albus was positive his face would burst like confetti. “Damn it. I’m gay.” James remarked spiritedly, wrapping an arm around Scorpius’s slim shoulder. 

Scorpius giggled at him while Albus rolled his eyes and let out a noise of deep detest. “Coming out’s no joke, James.” Albus said sensitively. “And my boyfriend is off limits.” He glared at Rose. “To the both of you.”

“I wouldn’t want Scorpius anyway,” Rose chided in, her eyes fixed in the newspaper, “Now that I know where his hands have been…”

James threw his head back laughing—pink in the face—accidentally spilling his bottle of ink, which created a profuse black river all over the aristocratic carpet. 

“Oh damn it.” He mumbled, pulling out his wand. He stopped laughing at once. “Augumenti!” He appeared both startled and slightly amused. Water sprayed from the tip of his wand, making the mess worsen greatly. “Damn it!” He repeated with an edge of fright. 

“Hang on. Let me try.” Scorpius insisted, plucking out his own wand and pointing it to the bubbling black stream. “Scourgify!” Pink soap bubbles squirted out of his wand, and the ink quickly disappeared, leaving the carpet clean. 

“Thanks for that.” James said, sighing. “The snakes would’ve sunk their conceited teeth into me if they knew I’d made a mess in their little lair.” 

“I would have told them to lay off.” Albus yawned. He watched Scorpius stuff his wand back into his robes and gave him an impressed smile. “How have you learned to be so good at spells?” He asked him.

Scorpius smiled shyly. That was a compliment, wasn't it? An excellent question, too. How was Scorpius doing it? Only days ago, he was awful at spell-casting. What changed? 

“I dunno.” Scorpius shrugged. “How come you’re an expert now?” He countered. 

“I wouldn’t say expert—” James cut in.

“I dunno either.” Albus said lugubriously, easily disregarding his brother's comment. Albus was unsure how to answer his boyfriend’s question. He had to think. Think back. How was Albus able to produce charms, hexes and curses of all sorts? How did he learn how to defend himself so naturally? “I-I honestly don’t know why or....or how I can spell-cast so well now. It’s…it’s strange. One moment, I am useless at spells and the next, I am able to produce powerful charms and spells. I wish I could tell you when it started, but I really don’t—” Albus stopped talking at once. “No.” He whispered. “Of…of course! It started in the library!” He said quickly, his green eyes widening. “Yeah. Since Yann duelled us in the library, it’s like…it’s like I was suddenly hit with the ability to use magic! And that surge, that feeling, that hold on magic, it has stayed with me ever since.”

Scorpius nodded in agreement. “Me too. It was the library, yes. Yann came at us after we—” He cleared his throat, glancing away from the view of James and Rose. “Well after we spoke.”

“Don’t recall saying much.” Albus smirked.

Scorpius went scarlet. "Anyway! After Yann came in the library and harassed us, I was furious. Since then, I could duel. I could use spells. I could defend myself. Strange, wouldn’t you say? It’s like we were suddenly granted with magical abilities.”

“I reckon it’s always been in you, mate.” James said heedfully, peering from Scorpius to Albus. “You’re a wizard. Magic never leaves you. Magic is within you, always. The problem was, you didn’t believe in yourself. Not until recently. Not until…” A smile emerged from James’ face. “Not until you both finally confessed your feelings to one another. Not until you both admitted that you were in love with each other. Not until you snogged. Don’t you see? Self-acceptance and love has been holding both of you back all this time. It has been preventing you from performing at your best. It has been in the way of your spell-casting. You just had to believe and accept yourselves and each other. It was love that allowed you to spell-cast. Love and self-acceptance. Dumbledore was right after all, wasn’t he? Love truly is the greatest form of magic.”

“It is, isn’t it?” Albus smiled at Scorpius, who bit his lip, turning away from him, still grinning ear to ear. 

“At least now this means you can defend yourself from the bullies.” James said cheerfully. 

“Which reminds me,” Rose said with slight hesitation, “How are the Slytherins treating you both?”

“They…they’re alright now.” Albus answered, yawning once more, stretching his arms into the air. “They’re welcoming. Kind. A couple of them are gits, but it’s fine. The rest of them—they don’t mind that we—that Scorp and I are together.” 

“The Slytherins are not a problem,” Scorpius said, watching James compose a string of sentences in his parchment, which made no sense at all. “It’s the school…”

James stopped writing and turned to his brother and Scorpius. “If anyone gives you—either of you a hard time—I’ll hex them—hex them until they’re black and blue in the face.”

“JAMES!” Rose cried, obviously dismayed, throwing down the Daily Prophet. “That’s your solution? Dueling? Honestly. Grow up…”

“Alright, alright. Not to that extreme.” James said hurriedly, taken aback by her sudden anger, winking at his brother and Scorpius once Rose’s eyes were locked back onto the Daily Prophet. 

“You…you lot…both of you…you don’t have to hang around us, you know.” Albus stammered as he skidded out from the couch and stalked over to the turquoise rectangular glass table, which was munificently mounded with tidbits and thirst-quenchers of all sorts. Albus scooped two Butterbeers in each hand. He set one beside Rose—who nodded kindly at him—and tossed one at his brother who caught it, bowing once he did, and finally he sat back down on the couch, opening a bottle, and handing it to Scorpius who turned bright pink. Albus nested his bottle of Butterbeer in his hand before taking a tiny sip. “I know since…erm…everything…you both have been glued to our sides. Camping out in our Dormitories…bringing meals for us from the Great Hall…not telling on us for skipping classes…”

“Al, mate, it’s only been one day,” James said gently, dipping his Quill in ink, “No one’s expecting you to go to class given everything that’s going on…”

“I just don’t want you all to put your lives on hold.” Albus complained. “No need to watch over us. We’re fine. Beside, you don’t want everyone to go on to spread rubbish about you. People will start to forget you’re Gryffindors. They’ll think you’ve forgotten where your true loyalty lies.”

“It’s with you,” Rose glanced up, smiling at Albus and then at Scorpius, “Both of you. I don’t mind being here at all. It’s no trouble.” She took a large and rather loud gulp of her Butterbeer, wiping her lips with her sleeves. “We need to stick together—and that’s exactly what James and I are doing. Sticking together—not out of force, out of want. I want to be here. I want to spend more time with you. I like it here in the Dungeons...” Her eyes fluttered onto the picture of Salazar Slytherin and she appeared quite tense and uncomfortable—her shoulders stiffened and her eyes flickered back to the newspaper. “It-it’s….erm…c-c-comforting.” 

“Rose, I think I ought to teach you how to lie.” Albus smirked. 

“Oh alright,” Rose rolled her eyes with a nervous smile, “So I prefer being in the Gryffindor Dormitory. Big deal. I can adjust. And look—I have! It’s different from the home I know, but it’s rather suitable. Quiet place to read and do homework. I’m certainly not complaining. Gryffindors can be quite loud if you ask me. Also, James and I were talking and we…we think—we think it’s time. If you boys…if you want to come out to the school—well, go for it. No one’s stopping you. It’s perfectly unacceptable how James and I don’t have to worry about who we fancy, but you have to. It’s unfair to you. It’s awful that you are pretending to be straight whenever you strut around the grounds of Hogwarts and once you reach your Dormitory, you throw off the charade and be who you are. It hurts to see. Be yourselves. It’s alright. Just—be who you are. We’ll defend anyone who bothers you.” 

“It would be nice,” Scorpius whispered, his grey eyes locking on Albus’s expectantly. “I know…know it’s going to be a big deal. The bullying…it…it will be worse. B-but who cares? I mean, it’s nothing new, now is it?” Scorpius tried to smile. 

“Hate all of them.” Albus sighed tempestuously. “But I can take it.” He tapped his fingers against the cool drink. “It’s…it’s worth it. It’s worth it for me. Erm, Scorp—? Are—? Are you alright with it?”

Scorpius clipped a finger in his mouth, pondering. “Yes. I think I am.”

“It’s settled then,” Albus smiled, reaching for his hand to hold, “It starts tomorrow.” 

Scorpius grinned, clasping their fingers together. “Good.” 

James rumpled up the blonde strings of Scorpius’s hair tenderly, the way he did with his brother. “Thank Dumbledore. And welcome to the family.” 

Scorpius laughed, pulling away as he tried to fix his hair back in place. “What?”

James’s eyes met Albus’s. “Heard you’re coming over for supper soon.” 

Scorpius tipped the Butterbeer by his lips, exhaling. “Sure he wouldn’t try to poison me, your Dad?”

“Hey. He likes you.” Albus told him with a delicate smile. “It’ll go well. I promise.” 

“We should probably practice asking you questions,” James opined. “Wouldn’t want anything to go wrong. If it does, Dad’ll probably exile you out of our lives forever—”

“James!” Albus berated. “What, for the love of Dumbledore, are you doing?”

“Scaring him.” James admitted with a friendly smile at Scorpius. 

“I’m sorry to report this to you, but I do not scare that easily.” Scorpius said with an attractive trace of confidence. 

“He’s right, you know.” Albus said pompously, smirking at his boyfriend. “You’ll have to try a lot harder than that, James.” 

“Fine.” James mumbled, appearing displeased with himself. His brother was quite easy to scare. Why wasn’t Scorpius? James cleared his throat while hooking his wand onto his other earlobe. “Anyway. How about some icebreakers? That way, if Dad asks you a few questions, well, hopefully you’re prepared. Let’s start with an easy one, shall we? What’s—? What’s your favourite colour?” 

“Green.” Scorpius said immediately, latching harder onto Albus’s hand.

James made a puzzled face. “Hang on,” He said slowly, “Al’s favourite colour is grey. Think I know what’s going on…” He paused again, biting his nails abstractedly. He was right, wasn’t he? It…it all made sense now. “It’s because you two are Slytherins! You snakes and your bloody Slytherin Pride!” He exclaimed. “It’s the house colours you fancy!”

“Yeah,” Albus said sarcastically, stealing a gaze from Scorpius’s bright eyes, who turned to him with a knowing grin, he too, desperate to stare into those emerald irises once more, “That’s definitely the reason…”

Rose smiled to herself, continued reading the paper, and stopped at once— opening her mouth slightly, as if she were severely offended. 

Scorpius caught on quickly. “Enlighten us,” He murmured to her, still grasping onto Albus’s hand, “What rubbish has the Daily Prophet been saying this time?”

Rose creased the paper in half, appearing guilty and rather upset. “Nothing.” She fibbed.

“Tell us, Rose.” Albus beseeched. “It’s alright.” 

Rose looked as though she were going to burst into tears at any given moment. “It’s awful!” She cried. “The Daily Prophet likes to attack Harry a lot—always has—mind you. Not to mention my Mum. Erm….and…and of course, Scorpius, your… D-Dad. It’s no surprise they’re criticizing him seeing as he used to be a Death Eater—”

“Rose!” Albus scolded.

“I’m not lying, now am I?” Rose retorted, her chocolate eyes were repentant. “Since your Dad used to work for V-V-Voldemort, the Daily Prophet is butchering him. Saying a load of tosh about you, Scorpius and you too, Albus. A-and…well…they don’t have particularly nice things to say…dunno why I’m reading this, actually…” 

“Show us.” Albus demanded. 

“Please.” Scorpius corrected, sticking his tongue out at Albus. “Manners, Potter.” He teased.

Albus smirked at him. “Don’t make me snog you.” 

“Please do.”

Rose watched the pair, and grinned. “You two are bloody disgusting, honestly. Get a room.” 

“Ooh Albus would love that, wouldn’t you, Al?” James sneered, glancing up from the parchment. 

“James, shut up and write your paper!” Albus simpered. 

“Oi I’m trying but this damn assignment makes no bloody sense!”

“I’ll help you!” Scorpius volunteered eagerly.

“No,” James pretended to pout, “My brother is threatened by our love—”

Rose let out a sigh of irritation. “Does anyone care of what the Daily Prophet is writing about? Or should I keep it to myself?” 

“Sorry!” The three boys said at the same time. 

The paper in Rose’s hand trembled. “I-I must alert you…” She said quietly, staring from Scorpius to Albus, with a grave, dim expression on her face, “…J-just…brace yourselves…”

Rose turned the thick black and white newspaper, hoisting up the front page of the Daily Prophet. There was a large, bloodcurdling photograph of Delphi. Scorpius let out a whimper, while Albus’s face darkened at once. Both boys inched their faces closer to the front page of the newspaper, glaring unblinkingly at the moving picture. 

Delphi’s silvery blue hair wasn’t neatly nurtured as it usually was but it was wildly sporadic and untamed like a cluttered black ball of yarn with several chunks of blue hay sticking on odd parts of her skull. She was clothed in a ragged grey and white dress from Azkaban, her exceedingly bony wrists chained together by gigantic bolts, leaving her little room to hoist up her Azkaban number. Delphi’s cracked and rather parched lips thinned into a dangerous quite triumphant sneer as she glared sadistically at them. The headline read:

DELPHI ON THE RISE: THE NASTY DUEL BETWEEN POTTER AND MALFOY THAT STARTED IT ALL

“The nasty duel between Potter and Malfoy that started it all?” Albus quoted, laughing acerbically. “They’re mad.” He seized tighter onto Scorpius’s hand. “We didn’t duel each other!”

Scorpius shrugged nonchalantly as if this was something of no real surprise to him. “Don’t let it bother you.” His eyes was hooked onto the horrifying photo of Delphi. “T-that’s an old picture of her. Same one they stamped onto the papers once she was thrown into Azkaban a year ago.” 

“We didn’t even duel each other!” Albus repeated doggedly. “Who published such rubbish?”

“Who else?” Rose said contemptuously, moving the paper out of Scorpius’s view. “Rita Skeeter of course.”

“When will that ghastly woman be put out already?” James growled, tearing his roll of parchment and chucking it into the fire, watching it scald to ashes. 

“Read it.” Scorpius declared. 

Albus hesitated. “Maybe it’s best if we leave it alone?” He suggested, although he couldn’t pretend he wasn’t just the slightest bit curious. 

“It’s alright, Albus.” Scorpius said sombrely, gulping the rest of his Butterbeer and setting the empty bottle on the carpet. “It’s nothing I’ve never heard before.” 

Rose took a deep breath:

“Since Delphi’s escape on the thirteenth of November, questions have began to arise as to how she had vanished. It is no surprise that the descendant of Voldemort was found in the basement of Draco Malfoy, a well-known Death Eater. For those of you who are unaware, Draco Malfoy is a Pureblood who is an uncontrollable and power-thirsty fanatic who views Muggleborns and Half-Bloods as lesser. It is hardly any astonishment given he was raised by Lucius and Narcissa Malfoy. The Malfoys are proud members of the Sacred Twenty Eight. Let’s not forget that Draco’s late wife, Astoria is from the Pureblood Greengrass family. Is it a mere coincidence that Draco chose to wed a woman from the Sacred Twenty Eight? Or, is there a motive? After all, the Malfoy Family have willingly and rather enthusiastically joined Lord Voldemort and were his most loyal, most trusted Death Eaters. They battled alongside with him during the Second Wizarding War."

“How can Skeeter pen such lies about my Mum?” Scorpius exploded, red with fury. “Why would she paint her in bad light?"

“She’s terrible.” James empathized. “She crosses lines without thinking of the consequences.”

“My Mum is NONE of those things!” Scorpius declared. “At least Dad can defend himself. Mum…Mum can’t.”

“But you can.” Albus spoke up. “You can on her behalf. And I’m sure your Dad will, too. Of course, so will her sister, Daphne. Everyone knew your Mum to be kind. No one will believe this. If they do, they’ll have to answer to us.”

“Exactly.” Rose nodded. 

“Can’t stand Skeeter.” Scorpius leaned his head against Albus’s shoulder. “Wish she would leave us alone.” 

“We can kill her by potion. Albus suggested darkly. “Make it look like an accident.” 

“I know you’re joking…” Scorpius said slowly, staring deep into his engaging eyes. “But I might be on board with that plan…”

“Perhaps I should stop reading…” Rose said slowly, tucking the paper away. “It’s making you boys plot murder for goodness sake!”

“No!” Scorpius protested. “Let me hear the rest.” 

With a tiresome sigh, Rose carried on:

“The relationship between Albus Potter and Harry Potter is said to be strained and damaged beyond repair. Sources report the two have a quite tragic father-son relationship with one another. It is no surprise that Harry Potter is anything but kind towards his son given as the legendary wizard had little to no father figures growing up to show him exactly how to be a good parent. It is apparent that Albus’s unhealthy relationship with famous Harry Potter had caused Albus to grow callous, atrocious and relentless at such a young age. Little did anyone know, this would negatively affect every student and perhaps even professors (although no one was brave enough to share a statement with the Daily Prophet) once he started Hogwarts at age eleven. On his first day of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, the boy’s compulsive longing for affection and power became more pronounced when he had reportedly developed an alarming liking to Scorpius Malfoy—”

“An alarming liking?” Albus snorted, kissing Scorpius’s cheek. “Is that what they call it?” 

Scorpius grinned, biting his lip coyly. 

“—an alarming liking since they met on the Hogwarts Express. Both troubled boys had no choice but to latch onto each other’s loneliness and pain, forming a rather disturbing friendship. The two have been said to study Dark Arts together and have gone on to jinxing and cursing anyone at their school due to their intense hunger for power and revenge. 

‘I mean Scorpius Malfoy—he’s the son of Voldemort—everyone knows that.’ Polly Chapman, a student at Hogwarts confirms. ‘Albus Potter is just as bad. Why would Albus become friends with someone who is related to Voldemort? He did that not only to spite his Dad—oh yes the two have a very unstable relationship with one another—but because he wants to go on to join the daughter of Lord Voldemort. Scorpius and Albus want to join Delphi in all of her mayhem. Both of them have a craving to prove themselves to their fathers. They have ambitions to make it big in Wizarding History. I wouldn’t be surprised if they turned out to be exactly like Voldemort. Oh yes. Scorpius Malfoy is splitting image of Voldemort and Albus Potter? Well, let’s just say when he looks in the mirror, he sees the face of Gellert Grindelwald staring back at him.’

Karl Jenkins, a Gryffindor student at Hogwarts shares his statement. ‘Yeah Potter and Malfoy are nothing more than dangerous bullies. They always trip me in the hallways. Hex me so badly that I wake up weeks later in the Hospital Wing. Once, I even had to go to St Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries. It’s that bad, it is. I’m terrified of them—but it’s not like I can say anything—I fear, they might kill me next.’

“HE’S LYING!” Albus shouted, smacking his hands to his knees. 

“Shush!” Rose implored. “We know that, of course.” 

Scorpius glanced away from his boyfriend, staring at his own hands. 

Rose exhaled deeply. It was obvious she regretted bringing up this article. She wanted to read it quickly.

“Draco’s son, Scorpius Malfoy and the son of Harry Potter—the Boy Who Lived—Albus Potter were apparently held captive in a Cellar—”

“Apparently?” Albus growled. “Apparently—?”

Rose ignored him, continuing. 

“…were apparently held captive in a Cellar at Malfoy’s Manor—an ancient mansion passed down to Pureblood Malfoys for generations. Sources report that the kidnapping of Albus Potter and Scorpius Malfoy was staged as an attempt for both attention-seeking and deeply emotionally unstable boys to join Delphi as Death Eaters. The three had arranged to meet at the Manor that very night, however, it had taken a dark turn indeed. It was said that in the Manor, there was a dangerous altercation. Delphi had asked Albus Potter and Scorpius Malfoy to prove their allegiance to her—to the Dark Arts—by killing each other. Only then would she consider recruiting them as Death Eaters. It was then when Scorpius Malfoy showed mercy—and did nothing while Albus Potter, a lonely and angry boy who wants nothing more than to gain acceptance from his infamous father and from others around him—was the first one to make a deathly move as an attempt to kill Scorpius Malfoy. He tortured him brutally by using the Cruciatus Curse until Scorpius Malfoy was weeping…pleading for his former friend to stop what he was doing…but Albus…who was now unrecognizable…couldn’t bear to stop for he loved the taste of inflicting pain and proceeded to attack him with all sorts of dark and unforgivable hexes and curses—”

“Stop.” Scorpius said weakly. 

Rose looked up. “I-I’m nearly done. I promise…”

“He said,” Albus said loudly, getting up from the couch and glaring at the menacing photo of Delphi, “Stop.” 

Rose folded the Daily Prophet onto her lap. “Alright.” She said grimly, staring uneasily from Scorpius to Albus. 

“Give me that paper, will you?” James muttered angrily. 

Rose nodded at him, and held her hand out for him to pluck the copy of the Daily Prophet.

James sighed loudly, finishing the last paragraph in his head. There was a faint pause. His jaw clenched. “Unbelievable.” 

“I know…” Rose agreed, shaking her head. “I for one would like to know where she’s getting all of these mad ideas from.” 

Albus sat back down on the couch, observing Scorpius’s emotionless expression. “You okay, Scorp?” He draped a shielding arm around his boyfriend, whose eyes were closed.

“I’m sorry!” Rose squealed apologetically. “Should never have read that stupid—”

“Finish it.” Scorpius reconsidered, resting his head against Albus’s shoulder. He opened his grey eyes, staring at her glumly. “Everyone else is reading this, anyway. Want to know what they think of me—of us…”

“Doesn’t matter what anyone thinks!” Albus reminded him. 

“Carry on.” Scorpius drawled, now gazing desperately at James. “Please. Just. Finish it off.” 

James’ hands tightened on the edges of the Daily Prophet and began reading: 

“As an attempt to save his own life before Albus Potter claimed his, Scorpius set the basement of the Manor on fire. The basement raged with fire until…”

James swore loudly. “Can’t—can’t finish this, Scorpius.”

“Just do it.” Scorpius urged. “Read it quickly if you must.” 

James sighed, locking eyes with his brother—whose face looked sick to the bone as James read the fine print writing: 

“The basement raged with fire until Scorpius Malfoy’s poorly neglected and helplessly abused House Elf came rushing down the Cellar to see what the commotion was all about. Albus Potter immediately blasted the Killing Curse onto the elf. Delphi was quite impressed by how far Albus Potter was willing to go to prove his loyalty to her but—once hearing that the Ministry of Magic—run by Hermione Jean Granger Weasley—a Muggleborn who is known to hold grudges and participate in blackmailing---was on her way to recapture Delphi—Delphi then fled the Manor, vowing to return when December was near. No reports on how Harry Potter and Draco Malfoy have taken this situation.” 

Everyone was silent. 

Albus fought the urge to defend himself. I didn’t kill Elfie! Albus wanted to scream. But surely, Scorpius knew that? Elfie wasn’t even dead. She was upstairs when Albus was last at the Manor. She was perfectly fine. Alive and well. Why was the Daily Prophet painting him as a cold bloodied killer? Why did they say he tortured his—? His boyfriend? That he bruised him? That he…that he hurt him? Why were they doing this? Did—? Did Scorpius believe them? Scorpius was there. He was there in the Manor. He knew the truth. He knew it was Delphi who’d tortured him. Then why did Albus feel quite guilty? 

“Well…let’s just say,” James began quietly, “There are more important things than me failing my paper on Muggle Studies…” 

Rose forced a laugh, desperately helping James break the tension. 

Scorpius looked deeply unhappy, shifting his eyes from the Daily Prophet to the Butterbeer on Albus’s left hand. 

“Scorp,” Albus said lightly, “The Daily Prophet is codswallop. You know that. Don’t—don’t let it shatter you…” 

“You didn’t kill Elfie.” Scorpius was breathing hard, sitting up now. “You didn’t—didn’t torture me…dunno what she’s going on about...why is she telling everyone you’re some kind of monster—?” 

“Reckon she’s trying to pin everything on us just so the Ministry won’t have to admit that a killer escaped Azkaban right under their noses.” Albus muttered. 

“So she’s doing all of this for your Mum.” Scorpius said, turning to Rose, his eyes becoming unrecognizably cold. “Give her my greatest thanks…”

Rose turned bright red. “How dare you pin this on my Mum!”

“Scorp, stop!” Albus cried, leaping to his cousin’s aid, astonished at how quickly Scorpius was turning against his friends. “You know it’s not Aunt Hermione’s fault. Or Rose’s.” 

“I-I’m sorry!” Scorpius croaked, mortified of his awful behaviour. He quickly stole the Butterbeer from Albus’s hand, angling it to his wet lips, hoping the drink would help keep his nerves at ease. 

“Hey. Hey. Enough.” Albus whispered, taking the bottle out of Scorpius’s hands. 

“It’s alright.” Rose said quickly. “Know you’re under immense pressure.” She empathized, giving him a shred of kindness, although her eyes were still crossed with fury. “If I were you…blimey, I don’t know what I would be doing or how I would be reacting…I’d probably just as infuriated…”

“You’d think Skeeter would have better things to write about.” James grunted. “Pain in the arse that woman is.” 

“You…you’re not Grindelwald.” Scorpius whispered to Albus. “I know you’re worried you are…but you’re not.”

Albus locked his green eyes with Scorpius. “And you’re not Voldemort…” 

“People will talk,” James mumbled, “They always do. You’ve just got to ignore them. Don’t feed the gossip. Come tomorrow and snog in front of the whole school. What will happen then?” He grinned. “Everyone will realize that article is scum.”

Scorpius’s shoulders relaxed slightly. “So you’re saying we’ve just got to ignore it? Pretend it doesn’t exist?”

“That's exactly what he's saying.” Rose jumped in, nodding several times. “What Skeeter wrote was inaccurate. I mean, did you hear what Karl said? That you two bully him?” Rose rolled her eyes. “As if. Half the school knows that’s not true.” 

“Speaking of which, Kasim’s in the Hospital Wing.” Albus said, quickly changing the subject. 

Scorpius paused. “W-what happened?” 

“Karl jinxed him.”

“Git.” James muttered.

Rose checked her watch. “Albus, it’s 7:00 p.m.” She said astringently, raising her nose in the air, appearing far older in years by the way she presented herself. "Suspect it’s time you go to your appointment.”

Albus let out a noise that was halfway between a groan and a whimper. “Don’t want to go.” He pouted sourly. “Rather stay here with you lot.”

James raked his brown hair away from his eyes. “Mum and Dad have arranged for you to go every evening. I say you’re going.”

Albus scowled. “I-I already told them I won’t use that bloody Quill anymore so I don’t see why I have to—”

“Albus,” Scorpius said softly, leaning in and kissing his cheek. “You’re going.” 

Albus felt like he couldn’t breathe once he felt his boyfriend’s lips touch his skin. “R-r-right…I-I’m g-going. S-sure.” He rose to his feet. 

“Idiot.” James snorted.

“I’ll go with you.” Scorpius reasoned, leaping up from the couch and outstretching his hand for Albus to take, as if he were asking him to dance. His voice was warm as honey. “You’re not going all by yourself, Albus.”

“No.” Albus stopped where he was. “I can manage just fine.”

“I sense a fight coming along.” James announced arrogantly.

“James, shut up.” Rose rolled her eyes, checking her watch once more. “You know what? It’s…it’s getting late, anyway. We should probably head back to the Dormitory if that’s okay—?” 

“Yeah.” Albus said.

“Okay.” Scorpius agreed. 

“I’ve got to get this bloody paper done.” James mumbled, helping Rose up. “I’ll probably pay Elm Rosebait 10 Sickles to write it for me.”

Rose threw him a look of greatest disgust. “You’re awful, James.”

“I know.” James said proudly and followed Rose out from the Dormitory.

“No way am I letting you roam the halls on your own,” Scorpius protested once they were alone. “Besides, I’ve…I’ve…” He let out a deep sigh. “…I’ve got to go see a Healer as well.”

Albus hesitated. “You?”

“Yes.” Scorpius nodded, suddenly finding it rather difficult to maintain eye contact. “Dad, he…he reckons I ought to see one, too.” He began speaking quite rapidly, horrified at the idea of admitting this to his boyfriend. “Dad admitted that he regrets not having me see a Healer the last time I was caught up in Delphi’s mayhem. He saw what it did to me. The nightmares. The crying. All of that fun stuff. He wants to do better. Wants me to be better. That’s why he insisted that I see a Healer. It would allow me to talk…not only about Delphi but about other sorts of troubles I may be facing and if we are going to come out tomorrow, then I reckon we will really need to talk to Healers. And that’s okay. It’s worth it. But right now, what I need to do is come with you. Escort you down there, and we both can, well, talk about our problems with a Healer. This is good, isn’t it? I would hope that it is. It would be good, wouldn’t it? For me to talk about how I feel about Delphi…the…the C-cellar…how scary Yann is…how I was forced to watch you…watch you hurt yourself…”

“Scorpius—”

“…It’s important to talk about it…talk about everything that happened to us.” Scorpius continued with a brave expression on his face. “Dad says it will be good for me and I reckon he’s right. I am already boiling mad because of that bloody article. Best to talk to a Healer about how I’m feeling.”

Albus was rather surprised. It was clear that Scorpius had all of these swimming emotions inside and did not want to let them loose due to the fear of being crushed by the waves of trauma. 

“Why…why didn’t you tell me earlier?” Albus said softly, taking Scorpius’s hand and resting it by his heart. 

“I…I don’t know.” Scorpius admitted, swatting his hand away from Albus and ducking down embarrassingly. 

Scorpius rested his head mournfully by Albus’s chest, who smiled. He is so cute whenever he is shy. Albus thought to himself. “Look at me.” Albus whispered.

“What?” Scorpius moped, refusing to meet his gaze.

Albus lifted up Scorpius’s chin up so he can stare into Scorpius’s entrancing grey eyes. “You don’t have to be ashamed around me, Scorp. There’s nothing you can’t tell me. I love you and I will never judge you.” 

“I love you, too.” Scorpius gave him a slow smile as he threaded both of their hands together. “I was worried—didn’t want you to think I was...was...weak.” 

“Scorpius Malfoy,” Albus murmured, wrapping his arms by Scorpius’s waist. “You are anything but weak. You’re daring, Scorpius.” He whispered huskily, heaving Scorpius closer towards him until there was absolutely no space dividing them. Albus creased his arms around Scorpius’s warm neck while Scorpius’s slender fingers were passionately tangled around the centre of Albus’s spine. “You are a noble wizard and seeing a Healer doesn’t lessen how daring or how noble you are.” 

Scorpius closed his eyes, breathing Albus in. “Thank you.” 

“I’m your boyfriend.” Albus laughed. “You don’t need to thank me. We’re in this together. The good and the bad.”

“The…the bad?” Scorpius whispered, regarding Albus in a different set of lens.

Albus, who was confused by the question, simply smiled at Scorpius. “Erm. Yeah.” 

It was as if Scorpius was suddenly back at the Manor. He could not breathe. He was plunged—against his will—into an unbearable flashback. He could hear Delphi’s terrified scream as the deathly fire blazed within the burning cellar, killing the only family member she had left.

“Damn it! Delphi. Come on.” Yann had urged. “We have less than a minute to Disapparate.” 

“WAKE UP, RODOLPHUS! NOOOO! PLEASE DON’T DO THIS TO ME! YOU CAN’T BE DEAD. OPEN YOUR EYES!”

“SCORPIUS!" Albus shouted.

Scorpius gasped, frantically spinning around the room to make sure they were alright.

"Hey. Hey." Albus consoled him, kissing his forehead. "You're safe."

"Am I?" Scorpius asked him.

"I-I don't understand." Albus grimaced. "Of course."

Scorpius’s voice was brittle. “Do you—? Do you—?" Scorpius's eyes flickered to the floor and then back at Albus once more, hoping he would comprehend what he was about to say. "Do you ever...think about…about…what happened in the Cellar?”

Albus’s face changed at once. “No.” Albus said edgily, his green eyes turned cold with mordancy. “Not at all.” 

In that instant, Scorpius felt like he was no longer gaping into the handsome, beautiful and loving face of Albus Potter, but a callous, closed off, stranger. It was as if Scorpius was like face to face with someone who looked exactly like Albus, but was not him at all. Albus certainly would not talk to Scorpius in a tone of deep disrespect and apathy. 

It terrified Scorpius so much that he was tempted to use the Revelio charm on him.

“But Albus, we—”

“Come on.” Albus said tensely. “Best not to keep the Healers waiting.” 

Scorpius followed Albus out of the Dormitory, frowning.

Scorpius was not sure how much longer he could hold it in. How much longer he could continue to look into Albus’s eyes and pretend things between them haven’t changed…


	20. The Mark of Mothers

“Oh, go on, Scorp. Won’t you say something?” Albus groaned petulantly as both boys toppled recklessly through the hooked doorway of the adumbral portrait hole. Albus stealthily moved his sharp green eyes from left to right before signalling to Scorpius—who was half-listening—that it was safe to crawl out.

Scorpius rolled his clouded eyes unpleasingly at him. So now Albus cared about his best interests? Unbelievable! 

Scorpius squirmed out of the secret passageway and headed directly to the opposite direction. 

Albus let out a fume of pique. “Where you off to?” He let out a drawling breath. “Hospital Wing’s downstairs, genius.”

“I’m not going!” Scorpius objected, halting by the Grand Staircase and glaring at him with a quelling look of disfavour and affront. 

Albus stopped where he was. Had he heard right? Did Scorpius just say he didn’t want to go see the Healers? 

“You’ve got to go!” Albus encouraged responsibly, treading forward. His green eyes glimmered bewitchingly. “You made a whole speech nearly five minutes ago raving on about how helpful it’ll be!”

“I’m not interested in going anymore!” Scorpius pouted, ignoring some of the students who nailed their condemnatory eyes on the pair of them. He dropped his voice, wanting the next cord of sentence that slipped out of his mouth to be shared with Albus and Albus only. “You’ve…you’ve changed.” He spluttered unnervingly, his face hot with guilt the moment he said it. “Alright?” There was a clear layer of sadness intertwined in his speech. “And I don’t like it one bit.”

Albus wheeled backwards as if he had just been slapped across the face. “What are you going on about?”

“Nevermind!” Scorpius said crabbily, spinning around and stomping up the staircase. 

Albus ran after him, frenziedly trying to seize Scorpius’s hands. “Hey.” Albus said, doing all he could to remain nearly as patient as his Mum had always been. 

That tactic proved useless, as Scorpius unravelled Albus off him, ignoring the burning sting in Albus’s saddened eyes. Without thinking twice, Scorpius trotted up the staircases by three steps each before finally breaking into a gallop of some sort.

“HEY!” Albus called after him, he too sprinting about, trying to catch up to Scorpius, who, to Albus’s surprise, was rather fast. “IS THIS HOW WE’RE GOING TO SORT OUT OUR PROBLEMS?” Albus shouted across the hallway, turning a few probing heads as he did. “BY RUNNING?” 

Scorpius stopped at once. “So you admit it.” He said heavily, his back still towards Albus. “There is a problem.”

Albus hiked up the corridor, observing his boyfriend with utmost palpitation. He marched in front of him, so Scorpius would have no choice to meet his rather edgy gaze. 

“I can feel it, Scorp. I know something isn’t right. Go on—tell me what this is about.” Albus stared into his boyfriend’s most arresting yet severely grave face, cloaking his long arms around the arch of Scorpius’s small shoulders. Albus despised arguing with his boyfriend. He didn’t like making Scorpius upset. It destroyed him. He folded his hands with Scorpius, his green eyes entreating with Scorpius, it seemed. “Whatever it is, I can handle it.”

“No you can’t.” Scorpius said caustically. “You made it perfectly clear that you can’t.” 

Albus let go of Scorpius’s hands at once, noticing a group of Ravenclaws who had strolled passed them. The Ravenclaw clan choked out high-pitched giggles at the sight of them. Albus hurled them a revolting stare, ready to dispute, but Scorpius quickly stopped him.

“Leave it alone.” He hissed. 

“But—”

“Don’t!” Scorpius warned. 

“Fine.” Albus mumbled in defeat. 

Albus continued glaring at the lot until he could not see them anymore. He faced Scorpius, offering him a sad smile. His voice was a quiet murmur. 

“Is this—? Is this about earlier—? About what…what I said about…about the cellar?” 

“You know it is.” Scorpius sighed. His voice was gentle and relatively calm again. “I-I want us to talk about it. Whenever I try to mention it, you freeze up. Turn into a different person. You get irate. Icy.” He folded his arms across his chest gloomily. The look on his face was quite ill from lack of sleep. “Is—? Is there somewhere we can go?” He suggested with a rather tense expression on his face. “Somewhere…private?”

Albus held out his arm for Scorpius to take. “Think I know a place.” 

*

Scorpius was scampering behind Albus, who was very silent, swarming with unsaid excitement as he stalked up to the seventh floor. 

“How—many—more—stairs—?” Scorpius panted, his pale face shining with sweat. 

Albus smirked at him. “Oh shush. It’ll be worth it.” He grabbed Scorpius’s hand and led him down the empty corridor. “Now just watch.” He said zestfully, running towards the pebbled barrier and placing his hand upon the cool wall. “Is it here—?” He quickly paced about the corridor from one corner to the other, shaking his head. “Or was is that one—?” He turned around sharply and walked to the left again. Stopping where he was, he bounced forward. “No. No. It must be this one. Right here. Yeah. Just look at it! You’ll see!”

Scorpius stared ahead blankly, studying hard at the shadowy blocks, predicting they would spell out a word or sentence of some sort. “Is it—? Is it supposed to…do something?” 

“Give it a minute.” Albus urged, glancing expectantly at the grey bricks bespattered on the aged wall. 

The two boys jerked their faces upwards, waiting in mad anticipation for something spellbinding to occur. Albus gave it a minute. Then another. And another.  
What was going on? Why wasn’t it doing anything? 

Albus swore under his breath, feeling his temper rise up again. He took Scorpius to this place only to be fooled by the enchanting magic and secrets that the walls of Hogwarts so cleverly masked. 

“For the love of Dumbledore.” He muttered carpingly. He needed something dramatic to happen. He needed it to work. 

How did I do it before? Albus thought to himself, knowing very well that the two were open prey as of right now. It was nighttime; that meant none of the Professors would be patrolling the hallways. That meant they could obtain the much-needed assistance from the Prefects. Then again, that bloody Gryffindor Prefect was useless. Whenever there was trouble boiling about, he always had turned a blind eye, specifically whenever the trouble occurred because of Yann and his friends. The Gryffindor Prefect favoured that lot. What was that useless bloke’s name again? Oh yes, Borden Blyth. Scorpius always had suspected Borden was a vampire the way the wizard’s hauntingly white fangs would twinkle whenever he would sneer maliciously at the pair. Borden was nearly as bad as Yann and his friends for Borden would simply turn away whenever he witnessed Albus and Scorpius being bullied. The prospect of that alone was nearly enough to make Albus pass out in fear. 

“Suspect we should probably move fast.” Albus suggested, his voice unmistakably filled with terror. “Don’t want anyone to see us here. Especially Blyth.”

Scorpius furrowed his thin eyebrows together. “The Vampire?” He shivered. “No. I’d rather not see him, thank you very much.”

“He’s not a vampire, Scorp.” Albus tried comforting him, although a part of him was unsure. Why else did he refuse to eat any food that contained garlic? He also never seemed to be present in the daylight and all of his classes occurred at nighttime. It certainly was fishy. If Blyth managed to corner the pair alone here, there’s no telling what would happen! Albus tried to level his voice so it would sound about as calm as his Aunt Hermione always made hers out to be. “Now that I’m thinking about it…there is something rather off about him. Won’t you say?”

“Yes.” Scorpius agreed, wheeling about in dread. “Perhaps we should head back to our dormitories? He’ll drink our blood in no time!”

Albus let out a laugh. “Honestly Scorp! Think I’d let him do that to you?”

“Well if he attacks you first, he’ll try me next.” Scorpius said frightfully, chewing on his nails.

Albus turned to look at his boyfriend, appearing quite displeased. “So you’re saying you’d just watch him while he sinks his fangs into my neck?”

Now it was Scorpius’s turn to laugh. “Oh definitely.” He said sarcastically, rolling his eyes. “That’s me, Scorpius Hyperion Malfoy.” A smile spread on the boy’s face. “I would toss garlic cloves at Borden until he let’s you go!”

“That’d be quite a scene.” Albus said most impressively as he rubbed his chin. 

All this talk about Borden did make Scorpius rather uneasy. “Maybe this is a mistake!” He reconsidered. “Let’s go to the Hospital Wing. See the Healers like our Dads wanted. If we run now, we could still make it on time—?” 

“No.” Albus argued, although he didn’t appear too upset, just anxious. “I’ll find what I’m looking for. I-I promise. Just give me…give me some time.” He faced the wall once more, trying to avoid thinking about what would happen if they were caught by their tormentors—or worse by Borden himself! 

Albus and Scorpius had to get out of here—soon. The seventh floor was usually where Polly and Karl skulked anyway. How horrifying would it be if they were spotted by them? Hysteria started to hail down on Albus, making it quite difficult for him to move. His stomach felt like it was doing summersaults of all sorts; he knees suddenly became weak. Albus had to find the Room of Requirement now—and quickly. How did I summon the room last time? Oh yes. I kept thinking. Thinking of how much I needed this room, how important it was that I had this room. Right. Now I’ve just got to do it again, don’t I? Albus closed his eyes with a deep exhalation. We…we aren’t safe at Hogwarts. Scorp and I…we…we’re gay so the students will hate us even more. We need a safe place where we can just talk. Scorp and I are struggling right now. We need a quiet place. A quiet place to be ourselves. Without having to look over our shoulders. A space where it’s okay…okay to be us. 

Immediately, the tiles transformed entrancingly one by one. The olden wall quaked viciously; dust slopped out from trifling angles of each swaying brick. Suddenly, the wall was no more; there was a thick, long black metal door, which swung open theatrically. 

“Merlin’s Beard!” Scorpius was smiling now. “This isn’t—? You didn’t really—?” Scorpius latched onto Albus’s arm, jumping up and down as if it were Christmas morning. “This is the Room of Requirement, isn’t it?”

Albus laughed. “Of course!” He exclaimed, biting his lip as he continued admiring his boyfriend. 

“Well what are we waiting for?” Scorpius grinned, nearly forgetting he was mad at Albus in the first place. He reached out eagerly for his hand. “Let’s go!” He lugged onto Albus, and the pair walked into the dimly lit corridor.

The mysterious chamber was fashioned in a new order; it looked quite different from the last time Albus was here. The wands, tables of foods and that inane dummy of Polly Chapman had all vanished. Of course, there was still a loo set up conveniently at the dusky corner of the room. 

All around the chamber were ascending candles; but these tallow candles were not like the bright orangey yellow ones from the Great Hall. There were hundreds of floating green-waxed candles all set rather snugly onto extravagant, ancient gold candelabrums. There was a tall rather thin mirror edged to the left of the chamber, with a piece of the glass carefully cut out of it. In a heart-shaped black basket, were dozens of bottles of Butterbeer along with some sugary sweets that could be commonly found in the Kitchen of Hogwarts. At the heart of the chamber was a giant, flowy flag decorated with enormous rainbow stripes. Albus had never seen a flag as big as this one before; but he was not dimwitted; he knew that it meant. He knew what it symbolized. He couldn’t help but notice there were also tiny versions of those rainbow flags clipped protectively by each soaring candle. On the floor, was a large row of woolen green and grey blankets and pillows piled up against each other like a stack of cards. There was a large mahogany bookshelf with fogged glass doors. The books were of all different colours and published by witches and wizards from all of time. 

“Are we…d-dead?” Scorpius asked him with a blooming smile. “If this is what Heaven looks like, I think I will be alright.” 

“We aren’t dead, Scorp.” Albus snorted, hungrily eyeing the Acid Pops and the Lightning Bolt Shaped Dark Chocolate Covered Rice Crispy Treats. He waved his wand. “Accio!” 

“That spell doesn’t work here, remember?” Scorpius said confidently. He swaggered towards the massive basket of treats and hauled it towards the centre of the room. “The Room of Requirement, or the Room of Hidden Things—as Dad called it—has a protection charm which prevents the Summoning Charm to be utilized. We must do it the Muggle way, and find things ourselves.” 

“You’re a walking textbook, aren’t you?” Albus teased.

“I don’t like to brag, but yes, I am.” Scorpius smiled, still staring about the room with much awe. He shook his head and quickly sat down on the ground, as if this was all too much for him to drink in. “How did you manage to find this room?” He queried. Scorpius was speaking fast, the passion and enthusiasm in his voice was quite pronounced. “It is not easy to find. I was looking for this room for ages. There are only a handful of students who managed to find this room! Our Dads included! Can you believe that, Albus? Our Dads used this room too! Pretty exciting, don’t you think? My Dad used this room to…well…” Scorpius frowned uncomfortably, playing absentmindedly with his sliver and green tie. “…lure Death Eaters into the school which led to Greyback and the others to corner Dumbledore…making him plead for Snape to kill him which…I guess you can argue led to Dumbledore’s death? Not entirely, though, since it was always the plan for Snape to kill Dumbledore. Now, that was an awful example, indeed. Right. Just…just forget about that! Think about…think about how we can use this for good!” Scorpius smiled again, larger this time, the passion in his eyes present. Scorpius Malfoy was annoyingly irresistible. How can one take a good glance at that face of his and not want to kiss him? Scorpius hopped to his feet and began unfolding the blankets. He held the cushioned blanket at its two ends, and Albus quickly took the other two. The two boys began straightening the sheets out before placing them onto the floor, like a little fort just for themselves. Albus brought the hamper of nibbles onto their comforting and snuggled blankets before sitting cross-legged on the Slytherin coloured sheets. Scorpius stood on his tippy-toes, cupping the floating candles on each hand and bringing it down to where the two were. Scorpius popped a few Sour Strawberry Apple Strips in his mouth before continuing. “We should use this room for good! Like what your Dad did! Think about it, Albus! Your Dad was our age when he formed Dumbledore’s Army! This room—this very room was where he held their meetings! And wasn’t that a success? Well. Actually. Minus…minus Umbridge finding out about the D.A., threatening to send Dumbledore to Azkaban and cruelly punishing the students as a result. Other than that, it was a great idea!” 

Albus broke into laugher, playfully pushing Scorpius aside. “Oh yeah. A great idea.” He echoed. 

Scorpius stuck his tongue out at him. “Okay. Um. Another…another poor example. Well not really? Yes, they were caught, but look at all that happened! Your Dad made a real difference in their lives. He taught his friends spells of all sorts! Just because he got caught, didn’t mean it wasn’t a success! Maybe we can have a shot! We can do better! Just think! We can turn things around! Start our own army! Our own group! Queer kids only!” 

Albus leaned forward and kissed Scorpius’s cheek, long and slow. “I’ve always respected your positivity.” He droned with a pleasant smile. “Your ability to see light through the dark. But Scorp? We are the most unpopular kids at school. Think anyone would gladly join our gay alliance? They’ll just laugh. Make fun of us. Or people will pretend to be gay, just so they can figure out who’s gay and who’s not. It’ll open doors to even more bullying. We don’t deserve that.” 

Scorpius closed his eyes as if he were expecting Albus to disagree with him. Scorpius didn’t appear shocked the slightest; just mildly disappointed. “I love this room.” He said quietly. “It’s quite romantic, don’t you think? And…and safe. And free. But Albus? Don’t other kids deserve to taste this freedom too? They need someone to lead them. We can be their leaders. We can show them that they don’t have to be like us—they don’t have to be ashamed of who they are. We can show them that it’s okay to love and be loved. What if we were still in the closet and some bloke from Hogwarts formed this group? Wouldn’t it be great? Wouldn’t we join?”

“I think we’d be afraid to join.” Albus admitted sheepishly. “I think loads of witches and wizards will be afraid and I don’t blame a single one of them. Can we—? Can we just take slow steps, Scorp? We haven’t even come out yet.”

Scorpius laid on the blanket, his eyes staring up at the ceiling, which he now realized—was charmed with floating photographs of his Mum, his Dad, and pictures of Albus’s family. The room could read minds too, now could it? It was his Mum who always made Scorpius feel safe. Dad, too. 

“Okay.” Scorpius said heavily. 

Albus stretched his body out, his feet accidentally kicking over the basket of treats. But Albus was too lazy to care. He was focused on studying the lines and marks etched upon Scorpius’s grim appearance. The bruises on Scorpius’s face had not completely disappeared for he still had blotches of blue and purple splashed by the corner of his eye and hollow cheeks. 

“Scorp?”

“Yes?”

“We’ll come out tomorrow and see how it goes and if it goes well then maybe we could form the club, okay?”

Scorpius nodded. It was evident the prospect of the club hadn’t been bothering him, after all, for he seemed rather indifferent. “Can—? Can we talk about the cellar now?” Scorpius inquired with a hopeful look on his face. 

“Yeah.” He agreed, leaning his head against Scorpius’s shoulder. “Certainly.”

Scorpius moved his fingers underneath the cool pillow. “We killed someone, Albus.”

“I know.” Albus whispered, his voice sounding like a distant echo. 

“Is it bad…?” Scorpius murmured. “…to feel…guilty?”

“No.” Albus shook his head. “It’s bad not to feel anything at all.” 

Scorpius’s eyes met Albus for the first time in this conversation. “Is that how you feel?” He asked, reaching for Albus’s hand, which he most enthusiastically took.  
Albus didn’t realize how badly he needed to hold onto Scorpius. How much easier it was to feel protected and loved…simply by Scorpius’s touch. 

Albus’s green eyes danced around the chamber and focused on the bleak black ceiling. “When I think about the cellar, yeah, I feel nothing. I don’t regret killing him. He was going to kill you. Kill me. Kill Elfie. I had to do something. It makes me mad, too, because, doesn’t that make me just as bad as he was? Doesn’t that make me as bad as Voldemort? As Grindelwald? And—and that article—that only made things worse for me!” He squeezed harder and harder onto Scorpius’s hands, the fiery and sorrow in Albus’s eyes far more noticeable now. He exhaled deeply as if he were holding his breath this entire time. “When I’m around you…” He carried on, his body inching closer to Scorpius. “I always worry that you’re too good, too kind for me, that I am somehow tainting you. Making you bad. Dark. And that night in the cellar, that was all the proof I needed. You watched me use the Black Quill. You watched me kill Rodolphus.”

Scorpius shook his head incredulously at him. He took his tiny fingers and grasped gently onto Albus’s face so he would meet his eyes. “You are wrong, Albus Severus Potter. It wasn’t all you. We both took part in the death of Rodolphus. I held him down with the jinx. Remember?” Scorpius slowly let go of Albus, but continued gawking at him as he spoke. “The reason he wasn’t able to flee from the fire was because of me. And Albus? Delphi forced you to use that Quill. You didn’t want to. I saw in your face and in your eyes that you didn’t want to. It’s not your fault. You think I am some saint, don’t you?” Scorpius spat, sounding disgusted with himself. He reverted his eyes away from Albus, tears springing in his eyes. “I am sorry to say this, but I am not. I too am bad and dark.” Now it was Scorpius’s turn to lean onto Albus for support. He gripped hard onto Albus’s hands, pulling him closer until there was absolutely no space dangling between them for their noses nearly touched. “I-I lost my Mum, Albus.” His grey eyes were as wide and sorrowful as Draco Malfoy’s. “I think about her every day. Cry for her every day. I am angry at the world for taking her away from my Dad and me. I look at those bullies at Hogwarts and sometimes I honestly want to fire an unforgivable curse at them, but I know I can’t since that won’t solve anything, really. Not to mention I had beat up Yann after finding out he gave you that Quill. I’m dark because a part of me knew—always knew—I didn’t really fancy Rose or any girl of that matter, but it was easier to be with a girl than to admit I was in love with you. So yes, I am dark, too. I just hide it better. So please…please…stop torturing yourself over what happened in the cellar, Albus, because it wasn’t just you. It was both of us. I immobilized him. If it weren’t for me, he could have escaped. We both are murderers, alright? But, did we do it for reasons Voldemort or Grindelwald would have done it? Of course not! We didn’t kill Rodolphus because we had nothing better to do. We didn’t kill him because we thought he was inferior to us. He was going to kill us anyway so we had to have something up our sleeves! We had to save ourselves!” 

Albus scooped Scorpius close to him with his free hand, so Scorpius would be lying on his chest. “You’re right, Scorp. You…you’re right. We…we did it together. We both took part in Rodolphus’s demise. I-I will try not to blame myself anymore.”

“Good.” Scorpius said sleepily, drifting his eyes shut. Clearly, all this talk about the cellar had taken a toll on him.

Albus rubbed Scorpius’s spine affectionately, while wrapping the thick woolen blanket on top of Scorpius, who made an involuntary sound of approval and comfort once Albus covered him. Scorpius latched harder onto Albus’s neck, muttering “I love you” as he hugged Albus closer to him. 

Albus’s green eyes curiously travelled over to the captivating ceiling of the chamber only now recognizing the large moving photographs. One picture was taken during Christmastime. It was two years ago or so. Harry and Ginny were decorating the Christmas tree while James, Lily and Albus were laughing while throwing the decorations at each other. Bits of popcorn were wedged in Lily’s long red hair as she hid behind her Mum, pitching glassed ornaments at her brothers and ducking each time they tried to throw them back at her. Harry had a stern, authoritative look on his face, although he seemed as though he were hiding a smile. James tangled the Christmas lights around Albus’s hips who appeared deeply angry and offended. Ginny, on the other hand, had a mistletoe in her hand, waving it at her husband, who blushed deep red. Albus grinned at that photograph, shaking his head. How did the Room of Requirement manage to find this picture, he thought to himself. His eyes wandered over to the picture beside the Potter family. It was…it was Scorpius’s family! 

Scorpius’s Mum was beautiful. The Blood Curse seemed to be deteriorating her movements and frail demeanor; but she still managed to look exceptionally stunning. Her skin was yellowish pale and had long, lustrous brown hair that flowed down to her hips. She was dressed in her pink silk pajamas and although they were inside with a hot, crackling fire, Astoria had on a woolen hat and had layers of blankets wrapped around her, coughing sorely. She was lying on a lime sofa at Malfoy’s Manor, her head on Draco’s shoulder, who seemed deathly afraid, as if he were worried that if he were to touch his wife, she would crumble. It seemed to be Astoria’s birthday for the room was fashioned with large balloons, streamers and confetti. Scorpius ran into the living room with an excited leer on his face as he held out a small box in front of her. Astoria opened the box, and clutched her chest—Draco leaned forward—afraid something was wrong—but Astoria’s lips twitched and formed into a large attractive, deeply warm grin—and in that instant, Albus knew, Scorpius had inherited Astoria’s smile. Both of their smiles were breathtaking, shy and confident all at once. It was quite a scene. The minute Astoria smiled, Scorpius smiled at well; a harmonious melody. Albus had no idea what was in the box. All Albus knew was whatever it was, it made Scorpius’s Mum quite happy indeed. 

Albus darted his eyes back onto the brave wizard in front of him. He traced his fingers across Scorpius’s lacerated cheeks, wishing he had the power to heal.

“I…I’m sorry about your Mum, Scorpius.” 

Scorpius’s grey eyes flew open as if he weren’t expecting this. He wanted to tell Albus that it was fine, that there was simply nothing to be sorry about. But instead, he found himself rendered speechless. He felt as if someone was playing keep away with his heartstrings. He couldn’t feel anything at first and then—within a mere minute, he could feel everything all at once. The indescribable anguish and turmoil of losing a Mother dawned onto him once more. 

“I miss her.” He croaked, pulling away from Albus, and concealing his face, his shoulders quivering violently. It was apparent he was crying. “I wish…” He spluttered, breathing heavily. “…I wish…she was here with me…I-I wish she could see you. See us.” 

Albus’s heart slammed against his chest. It was clear the pain of losing Astoria still burned like fire onto Scorpius every day. Albus grasped Scorpius’s hands and held them by his chest so Albus could clearly see Scorpius’s wounded face. He didn’t want Scorpius to have the need to hide his face whenever he was vulnerable. Crying was not a sign of weakness but a sign of strength. It was a reminder that we are human and that sometimes, we need to cleanse our sorrows by simply letting out our most humane emotions. 

“She can see you, Scorpius.” Albus passionately averred, sitting up now. “Reckon she sees you every day, Scorp. Every day.” Scorpius watched his boyfriend speak and he too, repositioned himself. He sat with his knees pulled to his chest as he listened intently to what Albus had to say. Albus closed his eyes, kissing the very middle of Scorpius’s forehead. “It’s okay. It’s alright.” He soothed and thought of something his Dad told him a year ago about Cedric Diggory…about Remus Lupin, about Harry’s parents and everyone else Harry had watched die before him. He held Scorpius into his arms until the choked weeping minimized, leaving Scorpius limp in Albus’s arms. Albus pushed his fingers into the blonde strings of Scorpius’s thick hair. “When people we love pass on, they pass on within us. We carry them with us every day. They soon become a part of who we are. They will always be a part of us. Your Mum…she—she’s there. She’s there whenever you are in danger. There whenever you’re scared. She feels your emotions. Your fear. Your happiness. Your pain. Your joy. She’s there with you, in every step of the way.”

Scorpius mopped his eyes and breathed a smile, gazing up at his boyfriend. “So…so you’re saying…she was there? She was with me when Delphi tortured me?”

Albus wasn’t sure how he was supposed to answer this particular question. “Erm. Yeah.”

Scorpius’s lips trembled. “So she let Delphi torture me?” 

Wrong answer. 

“No, no.” Albus said hurriedly, running his fingers through his hair in deep thought. He grabbed a handful of the Sugared Butterfly Wings that were lying on the ground and ate them without hesitation, chewing loudly. 

Scorpius made a rather repelled face. “That was on the floor, you know.”

Albus shrugged. “Tastes just fine to me.” He mumbled, reaching for two Pumpkin Juices and handing one to Scorpius who seized it in his small hands, took a rather loud slurp. “You know if you’re hungry, I’m sure we can sneak down into the Kitchens and find something to eat?” Albus proposed.

“Famished.” Scorpius admitted. “Yes perhaps that’s probably best.” 

There was a long cloud of silence as Albus ate in the darkness. He finished swallowing the remaining sweets before drinking his Pumpkin Juice. Albus’s emerald eyes met Scorpius’s who turned bright crimson at the passion of his best friend’s magnetic gaze. “I’m not saying your Mum allowed Delphi to hurt you. Your Mum would never watch that unfold. What I’m saying is she didn’t just sit there. A Mother’s love…it’s the most powerful thing in the world. A Mother’s love is what saved my Dad’s life, more than once. Both of my grandmothers saved my Dad—Molly and Lily. And…your grandmother, Narcissa saved my Dad. A Mother’s love is the ultimate form of protection. It’s a mark that never leaves you. Your Mum loves your Dad so much she knew she had to bring you into this world. She knew you were important, that you are something your Dad always wanted and she would go through nearly anything to have you. She loves you, Scorp. Your Mum’s love helped you through all of this. She was the one who taught you how to make friends—”

“I’ve only got one friend.” Scorpius stated, a little embarrassed.

“Not to mention the best friend ever.” Albus winked seductively. “Sweets, they always help you make friends.” Albus quoted, handing Scorpius candies from the floor to take.

Scorpius eyed the sweets with a scowl of concern on his face. “As much as I love you, I refuse to eat off the floor.” 

“Oh alright.” Albus smiled, tossing the candy aside. “My point is, the love of your Mum is the strongest form of love. She will save you each and every time. She already proved that. Down there in the Manor, why do you think neither of us died? It’s because of her. I have a feeling she was somehow was involved in protecting us against the Fiendfyre. The flames in those fires were vicious, Scorpius. How is it we weren’t burned?” 

Scorpius gasped, his hand jumping over to his mouth. There was a flicker of faith pirouetting in his grey eyes. “You don’t really think she did that, do you?” He scuffled out a small smile and sat up straighter. 

“I think,” said Albus evocatively, his green eyes glistening, “Love works in the strangest of ways. This all took place in the Manor, didn’t it? The Manor is where she lived and died. You’re her son. She’s your Mum. There is no stronger bond that the one between a child and a Mum.” 

“I can’t believe it…” Scorpius whispered into his fingers. “She really was there all that time.” 

“My Dad said every time he had a showdown with Voldemort, he could feel Lily’s love.” Albus remarked. “He could feel her right beside him through it all.”

“My Mum must’ve been with me too.” Scorpius suddenly realized, his eyes widening with amazement. “When I was…c-c-crying after Delphi and Rodolphus tortured me…I was terrified…felt…so…alone. But. I-I knew no matter what, that somehow…somehow things were going to be alright. And…and then you came.” He leaned forward keenly; there was a rather eye-catching smile fixed upon his face. “Albus, do you think it was my Mum who summoned you to me?” 

Albus glanced away from Scorpius’s most hopeful stare. It would be nearly impossible to meet Scorpius’s eyes when Albus said the next sentence. “N-no. I-I think it was because of the connection I have with Delphi. I don’t think it was your Mum. It was the visions Delphi allowed me to access. I could see what she wanted me to see.” Albus watched Scorpius’s cheerful expression diminish and Albus suddenly wished he fibbed to him instead. 

Albus kicked himself angrily. Why, for the love of Dumbledore, did he tell the truth? Albus should have told Scorpius a comforting lie rather than the painful truth. But then again, that would mean Albus would have to lie, and Scorpius and Albus had promised that they wouldn’t lie to one another ever again. 

To his bewilderment, Scorpius didn’t allow himself to stay defeated for too long. Instead, he leaned forward and kissed Albus full on the mouth.

“Thank you.” Scorpius whispered his lips still quite overlapped up with Albus’s. 

Albus leaned back. “For what?” He smirked, opening his eyes. “I didn’t do anything, really…”

“You restored the faith I had with my Mum.” Scorpius smiling, his eyes dancing around Albus’s beautiful face, fiercely studying Albus’s attractive green eyes to his wet pinkish lips. “I-I do believe she’s with me now. She never really left me, now did she?” He gushed, beaming.

“Never.” Albus shook his head. He touched Scorpius’s chest with his hands. “She’s there.” 

“What about my Dad?”

“Yes.” Albus nodded. “She lives in both of you.” 

“I feel…better. Much better now.” Scorpius admitted, ducking his head shyly. “Do—? Do you?”

“Yeah.” Albus admitted, starting to get up. “Think I’d feel even better if we ate something though.”

Scorpius grinned and rose to his feet eagerly. “Makes two of us.” He closed his hand with Albus, smiling. “Perhaps we should leave—?” 

Scorpius turned his head, ready to depart, but stopped midway at the sight of the large Pride Flag. Smiling broadly, Scorpius sprinted eagerly towards the large flag, pulling it down to his reach. The flag toppled onto him. Giggling, Scorpius threw it off him, but reconsidered and placed the flag by his shoulders, wearing it like a cape, holding himself a bit more confidently. He positioned his hands by his hips, twittering shyly. 

“Think I prefer this over the Slytherin attire.” Scorpius declared.

“Think I prefer that, too.” Albus smirked. 

“Can I—? Can I see myself?” He turned about the room anxiously. “Thought I saw a glass of some sort over here.”

“Oh!” Albus pointed to the ornate mirror, which stood, rather neglectfully by the bookshelves, its golden feet steadily holding its rigid body rightfully in place. 

Scorpius studied at his own reflection, gasping in surprise. “I look…good, don’t I?”

But good was hardly the word to describe how Scorpius looked with the Pride Flag caped over him like that. Albus tore away from the mirror, staring right at Scorpius’s face.

“You…you look…well—you look…l-l-look…” He was struggling to find the proper words. Running his fingers through his midnight hair, he broke into a large grin. “…Beautiful.” He said at last, beaming brightly.

Scorpius blushed deep red. “T-thanks.” He said coyly, handing him the pride flag. “Now…now you try. Go on!”

“I don’t know…” He fumbled, eyeing the large red, orange, yellow, green, blue and purple stripes. 

He recalled sneaking into Rose’s room one summery night while she was playing Quidditch out in the field with Lily and James. Albus remembered how he managed to use her Muggle computer and searched up the origins of the Pride Flag. This flag…it represented everyone who fit under the queer spectrum. This flag was a symbol of change. A freedom of expression. It represented solidarity. Revolution. Proclaiming of power. Albus felt all of these things after coming out to his Dad. After coming out to his Mum. Scorpius. James. Himself. He felt all of these things after gaining the acceptance of his family. After declaring his love for Scorpius Malfoy. So naturally, this was it. This was his defining moment to fully embrace who he was. To celebrate his victories and downfalls. To celebrate his love he had for Scorpius. To celebrate the love Scorpius had for him. To celebrate that Albus miraculously managed to survive the seemingly unsurvivable. This was his moment to wear the Pride Flag…to see himself in an entirely new light. 

Albus seized the flag from Scorpius’s arms and smiled largely. He threw off his Slytherin robes and wrapped the Rainbow flag over his shoulders, the way Scorpius did only moments ago. Albus squeezed his eyelids shut, suddenly afraid to see his own reflection. 

“Well…how—? How do I look?” Albus stammered.

“For the love of Dumbledore!” Scorpius exclaimed, stepping back. “It…it really suits you, Albus Severus Potter.” He complemented with a supportive thumbs up. “Oh go on! Take a look! There’s nothing to be afraid of. You look sensational.”

“Really?” Albus asked in a tone of surprise, slowly opening his entrancing eyes. He moved towards the mirror to get a much clearer glance at himself. He stopped at once, as if he hadn’t recognized his own reflection. “That’s—? That’s me?”

Scorpius scurried off to Albus’s side, staring into the mirror with an attractive beam. “It is.” He murmured dreamily. 

Albus’s pale, stern face suddenly flushed with emotions of freedom, relief, confidence and most importantly pride. He rubbed his eyes, as if he was mistaken. But no. It was real. In the reflection, Albus could clearly see himself and Scorpius grinning, their fingers locked with one another as the pride flag flowed attractively by Albus’s shoulders. The rainbow colours seemed brighter, more alive in the reflection. Albus kept fighting a smile, which kept disappearing and reappearing every few seconds. 

Albus bit his lip to stop himself from crying. Years before, he would never imagined himself wearing a Pride Flag. But now…now, look at him! There he was, a wizard of only fifteen, draping a rainbow flag over him like a cape. 

“Come on, you.” Albus smiled, facing his boyfriend. “We can come back here tomorrow night.”

Albus slowly disentangled the flag from his body and placed it neatly on the floor, pretending that the absence of the flag did not hurt him or affect him the slightest.

But Scorpius knew better than to let Albus separate with the flag. “You don’t have to leave it behind, you know.” Scorpius said, his eyes surveying the room. “Ah-ha.” He trailed over to the corner of the chamber and plucked out a murky brown rucksack. “Put it in here.” He suggested animatedly. 

Albus didn’t have to be told twice. He snatched the flag from the ground and rammed it into the bag, which Scorpius swung over his shoulders. 

Albus tangled his hand with Scorpius, and together, both boys left the Room of Requirement.

Neither of the wizards had peered close enough into the ancient mirror to recognize the faded writing inscribed on the famous glass with the phrase: Erised stra ehru oyt ube cafru oyt on wohsi.


End file.
